Together, Oceans Apart
by teammccord
Summary: "Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies." Henry and Elizabeth live together.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Here we go again!_

 _This picks up right after "Spelling Errors" or Henry's proposal, but works as a standalone if you'd like it to. Will reference things from "At First Sight," but not without explanation._

 _Once again, I hope you join me in the next part of Elizabeth and Henry's origin story. Enjoy, and as you know, reviews make me super happy._

* * *

Elizabeth Adams woke up to sunlight filtering through the curtains in Henry's bedroom. She yawned and smiled as the realization hit her. This was no longer Henry's bedroom, it was _their_ bedroom. And her finger was glistening with a now permanent fixture, an engagement ring. She was _engaged_. To Henry McCord. And she couldn't stop grinning like a fool.

The day before had been a complete 180. She'd thought Henry had given up on the whole relationship for good after asking her to move in with him, and she was fully prepared to hate him for all eternity. But then he found her, crying in her dorm room, and wholeheartedly admitted he'd been a complete fool. And he still wanted to live with her. And he was hopelessly in love with her. She was so overwhelmed in that moment that she didn't really think before launching herself into his arms and losing herself in the moment. It was intuitive, and the rational part of her brain would've probably been far more cautious about trusting him again.

But then Henry led her to the park, and he covered her eyes, and she'd stopped asking questions ages ago; she just let herself trust him completely. The skywriter spelled out "MAR ME, ELIBET?" and she'd been confused and on the brink of laughter. Then he dropped to one knee and all the doubts she'd ever had about this man, about this relationship, fell away and she was just so overwhelmingly happy that he really _had_ been serious. She'd said yes, and they'd kissed and ever since, she hadn't been able to stop smiling. It was like all the pieces were finally falling into her place, and she couldn't be more grateful.

This led her to waking up in Henry's arms utterly content, exactly where she belonged. Some of her boxes sat in the bedroom (they'd cleared out her single late the night before, too excited and giddy to wait any longer) and she looked at them, knowing they symbolized so much more than a simple move.

It meant she was one step closer to a _normal_ life, a life with a family, not just a brother who only showed up he felt like it, but a genuine family. Over the past few years, Henry had slowly become her family, and she loved him so much for it. And Henry's family was there too, of course. His crazy, raucous family that she'd gotten to know well over the past few years. She had her tense relationships with some of them, but overall, they'd come to accept her. She and June McCord had really bonded and she now considered her somewhat of a surrogate mother.

Now, she felt Henry stirring next to her and he opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he adjusted to the light. Elizabeth shifted so they laid on their sides, facing one another. She smiled at Henry and he grinned back at her. The giddy feeling and novelty of the situation hadn't left either of them yet.

Henry cupped her cheek with his hand and leant in to press a kiss to her lips. He pulled back, still grinning. "Hey," he breathed.

"Hi."

"We're engaged, Elizabeth," he said, his voice still full of disbelief. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was still frantically trying to fix the enormous mistake he'd made, trying to find a way to apologize for being an idiot and breaking her heart. But somehow this remarkable, extraordinary woman had forgiven him, let him back in and accepted his entirely awkward, bumbling mess of a proposal. He couldn't be any luckier, he'd decided, than he was with Elizabeth as his fiancée.

"Yeah," she said, moving her hand up between them and taking his. "I love you, Henry."

"I love you too, so much." He smiled again and pressed his lips to her in a passionate kiss, and they quickly lost themselves in one another, in the tangled sheets that were evidence of the previous night's frenzied passion, of the all-consuming need they'd had for one another. They crashed together again, becoming one, and after, they laid in the tangle of sheets, breathing hard.

Elizabeth's thoughts were running a mile a minute, and the perfect bubble of bliss she'd been in since the previous night burst with an unceremonious reminder that they were back to reality. Engaged reality, but reality nonetheless. She shot up into a sitting position, leaving Henry lying on the bed, confused. When she turned around to face him, he sat up as well, a look of concern in his eyes. Was she doubting what they'd done?  
"Henry, we're engaged," she said as if it were the first time she'd heard about it.

"Yeah," he said tentatively, trying not to startle her.

"We have to tell people! Does your family know? I mean, of course your parents know, I mean, you probably asked if this was a good idea, but maybe not… And Will, I have to call Will, and I think he's still in New York, or did he already leave for Botswana… and—" Elizabeth was rambling and Henry couldn't help but laugh a little — she was so cute when she was frazzled.

"Shh," he said, gripping her hand to calm her down. "One step at a time, we'll tell them all soon enough. But first, let's get dressed and have breakfast, okay?"

"Okay." Leave it to Henry to calm her nerves in an instant.

They got dressed and made their way to the kitchen in relative silence. Elizabeth revelled in the quiet domesticity of it all, and she looked forward to this being her normal, her routine. Boarding school and college roommates were normal to her, so she'd never really lived _alone_ but this, living in an apartment with her boyfriend (correction, her fiancé) was new.

Sitting at the table with steaming cups of coffee and toast, they basked in their new normal for a little while. Eventually, Henry got up and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek as he headed toward the telephone. "Back to reality," he teased. She just chuckled and waited for him to dial a number.

Henry called his mother, knowing that one call would pretty much cover his entire family — once June McCord heard good news, it spread like wildfire. He waited for her to pick up with bated breath, this was all becoming very real very quickly.

"McCord," he heard on the other side.

"Mom, it's me, Henry."

"Henry! How are you?" The joy was evident in June's voice.

"I'm good mom, great actually. Elizabeth and I, um, we moved in together."

"Yes, son, I know that. You'd been planning that for a little bit now."

"Yeah, um, I also asked her to marry me last night. So we're engaged too."

"Sweetheart! That's wonderful news! I'm so, so happy for the both of you," she said, and one could almost feel her bright smile through the phone. Henry turned to Elizabeth, who'd been listening and holding her breath, with a broad smile. She let out the breath, relieved. June was happy. They talked for a little longer, and June eventually said she was sorry, but she had to get to the church soon. She promised to call again to speak with Elizabeth.

One down, more to go.

Next, Elizabeth dialled Will's number, crossing her fingers that her brother would actually pick up. The phone rang a few times, and finally, Will's voice was heard on the other end.

"Will!" Elizabeth interrupted him, "It's me."

"Lizzie, hey! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's great actually. I moved in last night, and um, Henry proposed. We're engaged, Will!" She couldn't hide the excitement from her voice.

On the other line, Will beamed. He was so happy his sister had found someone, and really did like Henry. "I'm happy for you both, sis. He was a little impatient there, hmm?"

"What?"

"Oh nothing, this was just planned for a little later." Will chuckled, Henry really did love her.

"Wait, you knew about this?" Elizabeth was entirely confused at this point.

"Ask him yourself," Will said mysteriously. "Listen Lizzie, I gotta go, talk to you soon, and congratulations both of you."

"Bye Will," she managed.

As she hung up the phone, she looked over at Henry. "How exactly did Will know about this proposal?"

Henry blushed and shrugged his shoulders. "Umm, I wanted to run this by Will when I bought the ring. Which was a few weeks ago, I had planned on proposing around graduation, when you got your Bachelor's. But then I was a total idiot, and you know the rest. I guess I'm kinda traditional in that I would've talked to your dad beforehand, but you know. So I wanted to talk to Will. That doesn't mean anything in the patriarchal sense, I hope you know that…" It was his turn to ramble now, and Elizabeth silenced him by walking over and capturing his lips in a kiss, winding her hands through his hair.

Breaking apart, both breathless, she grinned. "You're too sweet, Henry. I say this again, but my dad would've adored you."

"I would've been honoured to meet him."

"Does everyone from our families know now?"

"I think so, my mom will tell everyone immediately."

"You're gonna have to pinch me for a while, okay. Until this sinks in?"

"Of course, babe. Likewise."

…

Henry and Elizabeth had decided to ask their closest friends out for drinks that night, wanting to surprise them with the news. They waited nervously at the restaurant, nursing a drink each, waiting for them to come inside. Julia (Elizabeth's roommate from her first and second years of undergrad) and her boyfriend Ian came, as did Henry's friend Eric. A few minutes in, Todd and Lisa also showed up, and all their closest friends were there.

Elizabeth and Henry had somehow managed to hide the ring fairly well, and they were proud of themselves. Elizabeth herself had also hidden the temporary breakup from days before, so no one suspected anything.

Now, however, they all sat with drinks and Julia went straight for the question. "You guys said you had news. Shoot."

"Well, we moved in together last night, which you knew about," Henry said, and looked over to Elizabeth.

"And um…" she held her hand up, "we're also engaged." She smiled cautiously, and looked back at Henry.

All their friends started back, slightly in shock. Henry and Elizabeth were the first from their circle to get engaged. But who were they kidding, it was practically inevitable with the two of them. After the initial shock wore off, the table erupted in hugs and congratulations for the couple. Everyone gushed at Elizabeth's ring, admiring the diamond and patting Henry on the back for his good taste in rings.

"So, do you have any wedding plans yet?" Julia asked.

"Hey, let them breathe for a minute," Eric said. "They're stressed enough as is."

"Well, we did actually talk about this," Henry interjected. "We're gonna push wedding plans back a few years, and just stay engaged for a little while. Live together, that's it."

"Yeah," Elizabeth concurred. With graduation and the Marines on the horizon, they had more pressing things to focus on.

"See. We always knew they were the smart ones," Ian said.

Everyone laughed at that, and Todd looked over at Henry. "Come on, man, how'd you end up doing it?"

"Uhh," he started, blushing. He'd have to come clean at his complete idiocy now.

"Well," Elizabeth took over, "he led me to a park on the grounds and told me there was something I had to see. He covered my eyes when we got there, and when I was allowed to open them again, there was a message from a skywriter in the sky."

A collective _awww_ erupted and Elizabeth just chuckled.

"Except," she continued, giving Henry a teasing look, at which he buried his face in his hands, "Henry hired the trainee who had little idea what he was doing. The sky spelled out 'Mar me, Elibet?' and I had no idea what was happening." Elizabeth traced a little arc with her finger for emphasis.

Their friends broke out into hysterical laughter, and Todd put his hand on Henry's shoulder. "Man, you're never living that one down. Ever."

"Well, she did say yes," Lisa said, coming to Henry's defence.

"That I did," Elizabeth confirmed. She kissed Henry on the cheek and he grinned.

…

Later that night, Elizabeth and Henry were lying in bed, silently letting the day wash over them again.

She broke the silence, finding his hand in the dark. "Henry," she whispered, checking to make sure he was still awake.

"Yeah, babe?" He faced her, the whites of her eyes visible in the soft glow of the moon.

"Thank you for being my family," she said, cautiously, almost reverently. She looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes, her emotions getting the better of her.

He pulled her close and took in the weight of her admittance; it both humbled him and filled him with such sadness. He kissed the top of her head and pulled back to look at her again.

"Thank you for being mine."

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you liked this, and for reference, Elizabeth is in her fourth year finishing her Bachelor's, it's the beginning of March, and Henry's working on second Masters. Hope that makes sense._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Ahh! Thank you so much for the lovely feedback, it makes me so happy you're all as excited about this as I am! Well, onto chapter 2! Enjoy, and please leave reviews, they brighten my day!_

* * *

"I honestly don't understand how women have so many clothes," Henry muttered, shoving the hangers with his shirts and pants to one side of the clothing rod. Elizabeth just laughed and started hanging up dresses and blouses.

"Guys have it way easier," she said. "All you wear is shirts, pants, and occasionally sweaters and coats. We have dresses, skirts, blouses, shorts—"

She was well prepared to continue her list but Henry capitulated. "Point taken," he said, laughing. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before heading over to the kitchen to check on the lasagna in the oven. Elizabeth was still so relieved Henry could cook, she was pretty sure she'd have starved in college without his cooking — dining hall food really wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

It was the weekend, which meant Henry and Elizabeth finally had time to properly unpack her boxes. They'd headed out to go furniture and decoration shopping earlier (Elizabeth had books of her own and Henry's apartment was already overflowing with his as it was, so new shelves were needed, and Elizabeth had lamented his lack of pictures on the walls) and had spent the afternoon putting together flat-pack bookcases.

Furniture assembly had been surprisingly fun, mainly because they kept teasing each other and cracking jokes. After a good three years together, they found themselves very much in sync — until Elizabeth accidentally whacked Henry in the arm with a hammer, that is. Henry just laughed it off, and after some kissing to make it better (extra thorough for good measure) it was forgiven and forgotten.

Pleased with themselves after they'd managed to finish the bookcases, they took a break to start on dinner and then unpack Elizabeth's wardrobe. Correction, Henry started on dinner whilst Elizabeth puttered around the kitchen and stole pieces of cheese and tomato as he chopped them to add to the lasagna. He feigned annoyance, but really, who was he kidding, Elizabeth was far too adorable for him to ever stay mad at her.

Living together was quickly becoming so normal and everyday that they had a hard time remembering what it had been like beforehand. Granted, during the three years they'd been together without living in the same apartment, Elizabeth had had a key (which she still kept on her unicorn keychain) and she stayed over so often it was practically like she lived there anyway. They had just somehow never made it official, never taken the next step, but now, engaged and genuinely living together, they both wondered what had held them back.

As she finished hanging up the last of her coats, Elizabeth spotted something in the back of Henry's closet. Curious, she got on her tiptoes and pushed aside an extra quilt. Sure enough, the neck of a guitar was poking out from under an old Christmas sweater Henry had worn to an ugly sweater party one year. She pulled it out carefully, not wanting it to yank down the blanket and sweater in the process.

As she held the guitar in her hands, she took a minute to look it over — the bright wood, the green and blue strap, and the fact that it looked like it'd been played often and clearly loved. She was fairly shocked by her discovery, at no point in the past three years had Henry ever mentioned playing any sort of instrument. It baffled her then to see a guitar in his closet, and she decided further investigation was called for. Sure enough she found books with sheet music where the guitar had been, along with a soft slip-on case. She was becoming increasingly curious as to why he'd never told her about this.

She headed to the kitchen then, the guitar in tow, ready for a serious interrogation. Henry had his back to her, busy tossing a salad, and he turned around when she cleared her throat.

"Henry Patrick McCord," she said very matter-of-factly, holding up the offending object. "What is this?"

Henry turned beet red at the sight of Elizabeth with his guitar. "Umm…" he stuttered, "a guitar?"

Elizabeth chuckled wryly at his answer. "Do you play?"

"Yeah," he admitted sheepishly, "every once in a while."

"And why did I never know you had one?"

"Uhhh…" Henry really had no coherent answer to that except for the fact that he had honestly never been that comfortable playing for others.

"Explanations, please." She looked him in the eyes very earnestly, his guitar still in her hands.

He wrung his hands and sighed. There was really no way to get out of this. "I taught myself how to play in high school. My dad, um, he bought me the guitar and said I could impress girls with it someday, in one of those rare father-son moments." He smiled shyly. "I just never liked playing in front of people, you know. Sometimes, when I'm alone, I'll get it out but it's gotten rarer."

Her heart melted at his admission, and she smiled. She set down the instrument and walked over to him. Elizabeth pressed her lips to his in what was meant to be a brisk, chaste kiss but very quickly turned deeper. Hands tangled in hair, bodies pressed flush, and they practically melted into one another.

Breaking apart for air, Elizabeth rested her hand on Henry's chest. "Do you sing too?"

The deep crimson on Henry's face was a dead giveaway, and Elizabeth swore her heart couldn't melt any more, it was already a puddle. "Will you play me something, Henry?"

"Elizabeth…" he began in protest, he really didn't want to do this, he was still shy about singing, let alone playing in front of anyone.

"Baby, it's me. You can trust me. I love you, and I'll love whatever you play, got that?"

He sighed; he was reluctant but Elizabeth was the only person he could actually see himself being comfortable enough around to play something. "Do I have to?" he said.

"Yep," she said, like it was a done deal. She winked at him before becoming serious again. "There's a first time for everything. And once again, it's just me. Okay?" She leaned in then to whisper in his ear. "You know, we haven't done the bendy thing in a while…"

Henry was now blushing for a very different reason, and he pulled back from Elizabeth. "You're evil," he teased. "Dinner first though."

"Okay," she acquiesced, "but I won't forget."

They ate dinner and talked about other things, which Henry was immensely grateful for. He didn't much like being the centre of attention, and well, singing and playing the guitar kind of guaranteed that.

"I still can't believe you kept that a secret for three years," Elizabeth said at one point.

"Well, it wasn't so much a secret as it never coming up…"

"Yeah, but come on, you've heard me singing in the shower. At no point did you go, 'That's awful, I could do so much better?'"

Henry laughed, his mind picturing Elizabeth belting Beach Boys songs in the shower, entirely off-key. "You haven't heard me yet, babe. There's a fair chance it'll be atrocious."

"I highly doubt it," she said.

They cleared the plates and did the dishes, and Henry's nerves were tensing up again; the moment of truth was near. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him and he visibly relaxed. She took his hand then, and picked up the guitar, leading him to the couch. This was gonna take some careful coaxing.

Sat down on the sofa, Elizabeth pulled her legs up and leant back against the armrest. Henry checked the guitar to make sure it was tuned properly, before looking over at Elizabeth again. He cleared his throat. She grinned and pushed herself up on her knees to press a kiss to his cheek.

He cleared his throat again, and started plucking at the strings. Elizabeth sat back and smiled. Henry started singing, low and slightly raspy, but at the same time his voice was as smooth as honey, and just as comforting. Elizabeth couldn't stop the tears that pooled in the corners of her eyes or the impossibly huge grin plastered on her face.

 _Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone._

 _Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you._

 _I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song,_

 _I just can't remember who to send it to._

 _I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end._

 _I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again._

 _Won't you look down on me, Jesus, you've got to help me make a stand._

 _You've just got to see me through another day._

 _My body's aching and my time is at hand; and I won't make it any other way._

 _Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end._

 _I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again._

 _Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun._

 _Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around._

 _Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come._

 _Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground._

 _Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end._

 _I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,_

 _but I always thought that I'd see you baby, one more time again, now._

 _Thought I'd see you one more time again._

 _There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now._

 _Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you, fire and rain, now._

Henry finished out the song and he looked over at Elizabeth expectantly, setting the guitar down. Her eyes were still misty and she swallowed the lump in her throat before launching herself at him and quite literally kissing the life out of him. When they broke apart for air, he looked a little flabbergasted.

"How the hell have I never heard you sing like that before?"

"So not that awful?" he asked, still uncertain.

"That was absolutely gorgeous, and I can't believe it took you that long. Seriously, that was beautiful."

"Thank you. I learned that song in high school, and it's been my favourite ever since."

"I think it's my favourite now too," she admitted, "but like this, sung by you."

"I love you, Elizabeth Adams."

"I love you too. Will you sing to me more often now?"

"Yeah, if you want me too." Her reaction gave him a huge boost in confidence, and he guessed singing for _certain_ people might not be so bad after all.

"Will you sing to our kids?" Elizabeth asked absentmindedly, tracing lazy patterns on Henry's chest with her thumb. It took her a few seconds to realize what she'd said, and she shot up, shocked at her own words. "Uhhh…" she tried to backtrack.

Henry just smiled, he was thrilled that Elizabeth had thought about kids, however subconsciously. Truthfully, he'd had the thought himself, often actually, but didn't want to spook her. "Yeah, I'll sing to them," he said simply, pressing a kiss to her cheek to calm her down.

She smiled, and let out a sigh of relief; he seemed very at ease with the whole kids thing. Of course, she thought, he did come from a big family and had probably factored kids in at some point. Hopefully not too soon, she thought.

"So, we have kids in the future?" he said, grinning. He was thrilled they were having this conversation, that the love of his life wanted to have kids with him at some point.

"Yeah," she said. "But in a few years, okay?"

"Of course," he said, pulling her close and winding a hand through her hair, soothing her. "How many?" he asked; he had his own ideas but was curious.

"Two or three," she said, "I want them to have siblings."

"Hmm, sounds perfect. I always pictured at least one of each."

"Yeah, me too."

"I love you," he said again. "And I'm so happy we get a lifetime together." He ran his fingers over her hand, lingering on the engagement ring, the promise of forever.

"Me too. A lifetime of memories," she said, getting emotional all over again.

They basked in the quiet, in their plans for the future, in the thought that they'd be an _actual_ family in a few years. It filled them both with such happiness.

Henry turned to Elizabeth then, a coy look on his face. "Miss Adams, I do recall you promising a certain bendy thing in exchange for singing…"

"And there we go again," she laughed. "All sentimentality goes to hell with you."

"Didn't we agree at one point that I actually was the sentimental one?"

"Don't try to talk yourself out of this, mister!"

"Well, I mean we could stay here and just watch a movie, or…" he leant impossibly close and whispered in her ear, "make the evening more interesting." He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck and pulled back, a cheeky grin on his face.

Dear God, she was done for, Elizabeth thought. There was no way of resisting him now.

She got up and he quickly followed suit, a prideful look gracing his features. He loved that he could make her weak in the knees. She turned on her heel and headed toward the bedroom, glancing over her shoulder. "You coming, or what?"

"Right behind you, babe."

* * *

 _A/N: That song was "Fire and Rain," by James Taylor — also known as the song Blake and Nadine sung in the bar._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Everyone's career starts somewhere, and this is the start of Elizabeth's. I hope the research I did was accurate, otherwise we'll just pretend it is. From now on, this storyline will pop up every once in a while, but it'll be going on regardless. Enjoy!_

* * *

The phone calls had become routine at this point. She'd get them at odd hours, always from different numbers, so as not to raise suspicion. She was asked questions, sometimes just one, sometimes a whole string. The only thing she knew about the voice at the other end was that he called himself Joe. She doubted that was his real name.

When she had physical correspondence with them, the letters came in envelopes marked with logos for fake law firms, made so well she wouldn't have guessed they were fraudulent if she hadn't known. Every once in a while, she'd be called into safe houses for another interview, another test. She told Henry it was some meeting in DC for the political science students, to allow them to experience the Hill in person. He believed her.

She hated the lying. She couldn't wait do be through with this whole mess, to be able to tell Henry that she'd been applying for a position at the Central Intelligence Agency. But to her knowledge, that wouldn't happen for a while. She was nowhere near done with the process, and the lies had to be strung along.

She'd been told it was in her best interest not to tell anyone she was applying for the job until she got it, and even then she wouldn't be allowed to give details about what exactly she'd encounter on a day to day basis. So she yearned for either confirmation that she was hired, or a rejection, which meant she could forget the whole matter and not tell him at all.

A few months in, she was living with and engaged to Henry. That meant she'd informed the CIA of an address change, but to a PO box, because Henry accidentally opening interview requests would surely result in some interesting discussions.

He was busy himself, which helped, with the Marines and with his dissertation. So they both worked on their respective degrees and she carried around this secret that was exciting and thrilling and exhausting, and that made her feel like she was constantly deceiving him — which honestly, she was.

It wasn't like Elizabeth had sought out the job. On the contrary, it seemed like the job had found her. When she'd applied to UVA's Masters program a few months ago, she'd decided to continue with political science, and add on Middle Eastern studies. It had been her minor in undergrad, and she was fascinated with that part of the world. The fact that she had been learning Arabic and Farsi certainly helped as well.

…

She'd gotten the first phone call in the dead of night. Still living in the dorms at the time, she'd groaned as the shrill ring of the telephone ripped her from her sleep.

"Adams," she'd huffed, annoyed.

"Elizabeth Adams," the voice on the other side said, and she'd been startled he knew her name. "My name is Joe. I work for the Central Intelligence Agency and we've become very interested in you."

"You're from what?" At this point she was sure it was a joke, some stupid prank call.

"I work at the CIA and have been personally put in charge of your recruitment," the voice said, calmly, steadily. "We think you'd make an excellent analyst."

"What?" Elizabeth repeated, with increasing disbelief. This was beginning to sound like some sort of bad spy movie.

"I realize this is a bit out of the ordinary, as normally, you'd have applied on your own, and after finishing your degree. But we really do think your qualifications are excellent and the fact that you are planning to pursue a Masters works well with our recruitment schedule and provides a convincing cover."

"How do you know who I am?"

"We have connections to faculty at UVA and you were recommended to us," he said, and then the voice became softer. "Look, I know it's late and I've probably woken you. But I'd like to see a resumé and cover letter of yours if you're interested. I'll tell you more after that's reviewed. Thank you."

"Uhhh…" She'd been far too stunned to react properly and it'd taken her a while to hang up the phone. Had that really just happened? She was in shock and completely flabbergasted. But the longer she sat cross-legged on her bed in that godforsaken dorm room, the more the possibility of the job was beginning to appeal to her. It was government work. It was important; it was dealing with and gathering information. She'd be effecting real change — she'd be making a difference and she wouldn't be stuck in the political machine.

She began mulling it over in her head, the fact that she'd been asked to be an analyst (with a desk job, which would placate Henry's fears), the fact that she'd been recommended (she was curious who'd sent it in), the fact that this was real. So she made a spur of the moment decision and sent her paperwork in the next day, not expecting this to go anywhere at all.

But it did, and the process began.

…

The first time she'd been summoned to Langley, Elizabeth Adams had been terrified. She sat in the designated chair, waiting for some unnamed person to magically appear and whisk her away to the bowels. Or so she feared.

Instead, it was all quite grey, very much like a typical office building, except for the fact that she had very limited access to anything. Her visitor badge hung prominently on a lanyard around her neck. She'd grown accustomed to the general interview process during the few off-site meetings she'd had before, but this, being at Langley, was new. She swallowed thickly and looked around.

A man walked up to her then, in his forties, with greying hair (she figured it was from the stress). He was tall and seemed friendly enough, sporting a tweed coat and a striped bowtie. The man began to introduce himself, holding out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Joe," he said, "for the time being. It's easier that way, in case this doesn't end up working out." He winked and she smiled, he was clearly trying to make her more comfortable. "It's good to meet you in person."

"Nice meeting you too," she replied politely. So this was the face to her initial late night phone call, and the string of calls that had followed.

"Come with me, and we'll get started."

Joe led them to a small room with a table and two chairs, in a hallway full of similar bare cubicles. She sat and Joe offered her a cup of coffee. She accepted, and he returned shortly with two steaming cups. "You're probably asking yourself," he began, "how long this all is still going to take. I think we should be done by early October, if we proceed according to plan and there are no red flags."

Elizabeth nodded, the fact that she had a timeframe was reassuring.

"This interview is probably going to feel a little redundant, but I want to paint myself my own picture. Okay?"

She nodded again.

"So you grew up in Virginia, with your brother Will and your parents. Tell me a little bit about that."

Over the course of the interview, Elizabeth told Joe all about her family, her childhood, her parents, boarding school, college and Will. She'd told other interviewers all this before, but she felt more comfortable talking to Joe. He was calming in some way. Maybe it was the funny bowtie. Regardless, talking to him was going better than expected, and he could tell she was visibly relaxing. It was a good sign, he really did like Elizabeth and thought she was the perfect candidate.

…

Joe (he'd stick with his fake name for the time being) first heard about Elizabeth Adams from a friend of his. Professor Marge Cameron taught a "Major Dimensions of the Modern Arab World" course to upperclassmen, and she'd quickly singled out Elizabeth as her star student. She showed incredible insight into the topic, respectfully discussing viewpoints, exploring new options for solutions to complex problems and keeping an open mind.

Because of this, Professor Cameron called up an old friend. One that worked at the CIA, one who she'd known since her own days in college. She called the man who was currently calling himself Joe. He met Marge for coffee, and in between catching up about their lives and work (at least the parts of work he could tell her about) she mentioned that one student of hers that had caught her eye. Joe listened intently, she really did sound like the perfect candidate.

He left the coffee shop that day with a slip of paper — _Elizabeth Adams_ — and a promise he'd be receiving more information, as well as a phone number, soon.

…

Now Joe and Elizabeth sat opposite one another, as she told him her life's story. She'd gotten up to her first semester if undergrad, and he looked over again to ask her another question he already knew the answer to.

"So Elizabeth, or would you prefer something else…" he trailed off. He wanted to take any residual nervousness away.

She shrugged and deliberated. Liz was a thing of her past, and only Will called her Lizzie at this point… Joe could see she was thinking and suggested something of his own.

"Bess?"

She thought about it — she'd had the odd aunt or uncle call her Bess, she didn't mind it really, and she figured him wanting to give her a nickname in the first place was a good sign. She nodded and he smiled. Bess it was.

"So Bess," he said, going back to his original question, "tell me about your fiancé."

Henry. All the memories of the past three years came back, and she couldn't help but smile. It made Joe happy, he was glad when he could tell two people had found one another that were meant to be.

"Well," she began. "He's working on his second Masters in theology and ethics right now, but it should take some more time. He's TA'ing and teaching some first-year courses in the meantime. He's also in the Marine Corps, he hasn't been deployed, but for all we know, it could happen any minute now."

"How did you meet?"

"We met my second semester of college," she said, launching into the story of their relationship. For Joe, this particular interview was not about assessing Elizabeth's qualifications — she had plenty, of course. It was more of a test of personality, and attitude, and she was passing with flying colours. The woman sitting opposite him was shaping up to be deeply intellectual, willing to challenge her own beliefs, yet possessing a strong moral compass he knew would take her far. He also secretly liked she was living with a religious scholar, it meant she was capable of deep discussion and debate, not that that information would make it on the official log.

As the interview came to an end, Joe got up again and showed Elizabeth out. "I expect the psychological and medical exams to begin soon. We'll give you a break until after graduation, we understand how stressful the last few weeks can be. Correspondence will continue as usual. Once again, I will remind you that keeping these meetings to yourself until a final decision has been made is advised."

She nodded and shook his hand.

"Have a good rest of your day, Bess."

"Goodbye Joe," she said, and turned on her heel to walk through the lobby and out the door. As she crossed the parking lot, she mulled the interview over in her head, and then came up with the cover story for Henry. Maybe she was fit to be a spy after all.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you liked this, I needed some space to set up one of the two main storylines for this story. Henry will be back in the very next chapter, I promise._

 _P.S. There's something special about "Joe." Leave your guesses, I'll look them over. Maybe some of you will get it right. :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Some of you were completely right when you guessed who Joe is, some not so much! More to be revealed later on!_

 _We're jumping forward to May for now — right in time for graduation! Enjoy and as always, reviews make me happy on the inside._

* * *

Somehow, the month of May had snuck up on all of them. Finals came and went in a blur of stress and general anxiety, and soon, Elizabeth was preparing for graduation — summa cum laude, no less. She was excited and terrified all at once; graduation meant a chapter in her life was ending, and she was stepping into postgraduate life, research, a Master's and possibly a career as an analyst. Not stressful at all.

The morning of Valediction was hectic; everyone filed out into the lawn, seats were filled, robes adjusted in a last minute effort for uniformity, and the grounds were abuzz with nervous twenty-somethings ready to step out into the real world. Elizabeth had taken her seat already, as her last name placed her fairly far up in the rows, so she had a great view of everything.

Henry sat in the back, in the friends and family section, impossibly proud of Elizabeth and all she'd achieved in the past four years. He was so grateful to be a part of her life, to see her grow and find herself and her passions, to use her intellect to hopefully (no, he thought — definitely) do good in the world someday. He watched the graduates file into their seats, and smiled. Lost in his thoughts, Henry almost didn't notice the tap on his shoulder.

He turned his head and was stunned to see who'd walked up with a sheepish look on his face. "Do you have an empty spot?" Will Adams asked, looking rather lost with his bouquet of flowers.

…

A few days earlier, Will had called Elizabeth to inform her he was very sorry, but he couldn't come to her graduation, he had to do more training for his upcoming trip to Botswana. As a part of his residency, Will was planning on spending time abroad with an aid organization, experiencing trauma surgery firsthand in the areas where it was needed most. So he had to be in New York, he'd been told, for more certification classes and would have to miss the ceremony.

It wasn't as if Will was purposefully avoiding his little sister's graduation — far from that. He'd been looking forward to seeing Lizzie graduate and get all the credit she deserved for her hard work. Hell, she'd flown out to both his graduations — undergrad and med school. It was the least he could do, since, on all other fronts, he was the "seemingly always busy, never actually there" type brother, and he really did feel bad.

He'd been feeling bad for most of his life, if he was being honest — ever since his parents died and Lizzie had grown up far too fast. She'd taken on the task of worrying about him constantly, because unlike his little sister, Will dove headfirst into recklessness to cope with the loss. He went skydiving, threw himself into volunteering trips halfway across the world, and tried not to _feel_ as much as possible. As a result, Lizzie was constantly worried he'd take it too far, and get hurt. So Will began to distance himself, to give her less to worry about. Or so he told himself.

When he'd called her to cancel, Elizabeth had taken it in stride — as she always did. She said that _of course_ she understood. His training was important, the work he was going to do was important, and she'd feel selfish and guilty to try to take him away from that, because sick kids in Africa and her college graduation really couldn't compete. Will was appeased by her answer, he believed her when she said it really was all right, and he hung up the phone, breathing a sigh of relief.

Henry, on the other hand, saw right through Elizabeth. When she ended the call and looked out the window with a mixture of wistfulness and disappointment, he was by her side immediately, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her hair. She glanced up at him with glassy eyes and his heart broke for her. Will was the one _real_ family member she had left, and he wasn't going to see her graduate. There was nothing left to do except envelop her in his embrace so he did just that, as waves of sadness hit her and she finally allowed herself to feel.

She curled up in the arms of the one person who was a constant in her life, who made her feel like she had a family again, like she was loved and cherished — completely and unconditionally. She curled up in his arms and grieved — for her parents, and the fact that they'd never see their baby girl graduate, and for her brother, who put himself in harm's way to cope.

…

Now, Will stood awkwardly on the step, as a stunned Henry McCord ushered him in and greeted him. "Hey man, you made it! What happened?"

Will sat, grateful he couldn't detect any hostility in his sister's fiancé. Not that Henry the religious scholar was necessarily the type for it. "Hey. Congratulations, by the way. I had an unexpected break in training and my professors were surprisingly understanding. Lizzie deserves to have me here, after everything she's done."

Henry smiled. Will was not your typical brother, and often absent, but deep down, he meant well.

Henry and Will sat through the ceremony — they laughed at the jokes the valediction speaker made, were impressed by the student speaker's speech (some engineering whiz kid with a job lined up already) and clapped as the graduates walked across the stage to receive their diplomas. They stood and cheered as Elizabeth crossed the stage, holding the certificate in her hand, finally one step closer to starting her life.

For her, that moment of walking to get the diploma was nerve-wracking and thrilling all at once. The finality of it all didn't sink in, it probably wouldn't for a few weeks. She smiled up at the crowd, trying to make out Henry, but it was all a blur and she found her seat again, diploma in hand, tassel turned to the other side of her cap. Elizabeth Adams was now a college graduate.

She found Julia, Ian and Lisa afterward, hugging them and letting their new reality sink in. Julia had bought one of those disposable cameras and the four of them commemorated their convocation with a whole roll of silly pictures — throwing their caps, making faces and pulling other good-natured stunts.

Elizabeth then went off to find Henry, wandering around the Lawn for a little bit before spotting that head of dark brown hair she knew so well. She practically sprinted over to Henry, but stopped just short of his back. She tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around. When he saw who was standing behind him with a coy grin on her face, he broke out into an impossibly wide smile.

"Congratulations!" He pulled Elizabeth in for a hug, picking her small fame up off the ground and spinning her around in a circle. She squealed at the unexpected loss of footing, and laughed as Henry set her back down on the ground. Elizabeth got up on her tiptoes then, and pressed a kiss to his lips, lingering for a bit longer than originally planned. She broke the kiss and grinned at Henry, holding up her diploma so he could see.

He fondly remembered his own graduation a few years prior, and the elation he himself had felt when he'd held his own diploma in his hands. "Babe, I knew you could do it — summa cum laude no less!" She smiled again, it still felt impossibly surreal and she was sure it'd take time to feel normal. Gazing up at Henry, she was lost in the moment until she heard someone clearing their throat behind her.

She turned to see Will standing there awkwardly, a sheepish look on his face, holding a bouquet of flowers. Too stunned to do anything, she just looked at her brother, and then Henry, and then back to Will. "You're supposed to be in New York," she managed.

"Yeah, but it turns out they gave us the weekend off and I couldn't miss that priceless look on your face," Will teased.

Elizabeth just shoved him in mock annoyance. "Dumbass," she said, before pulling him in for a hug. "I'm really glad you came," she whispered.

"Congratulations, Lizzie," Will said when the hug broke, "you did good, kid."

The three of them milled around for a little bit, socializing and taking in the overall atmosphere of jubilation. Elizabeth went to talk to some of her professors and thank them for all the help and guidance they'd given her over the past four years.

One of the professors Elizabeth began talking to was Professor Cameron, who'd coincidentally been the one to recommend her student for a job at the CIA. Not that Elizabeth knew of that — yet. She'd taken a few of the professor's classes and admired the way she taught and the depth of knowledge she had about her subject. Professor Cameron, on the other hand, was deeply impressed with her student's insight and eloquence when it came to seeing a complex situation and assessing the various points of view associated.

Henry and Will had gotten into a discussion with one of Henry's colleagues in the theology department earlier, which meant Elizabeth was speaking to Professor Cameron alone. "Do you have any plans for life post-graduation?" she inquired, despite already knowing the answer to the question.

"I'm going to start my Masters in the fall, but other than that, nothing concrete," she said.

Professor Cameron smiled, she was glad Elizabeth had chosen to keep quiet about her ongoing application. "I'm looking forward to working with you throughout your Masters, and I'll make sure your schedule is as flexible as you need it to be," she said with a knowing look.

Elizabeth was confused and began to try to ask what was going on. "That 'someone' that recommended you for the agency? That was me."

"You recommended me?"

"Yes, I have an old friend there and every once in a while, when someone shows potential, I'll ask for them to be interviewed. Usually they're grad students, but for you, we made an exception. So I'll be working closely with you and making sure we keep both sides on track."

A little stunned and at a loss for words, all she managed was "Thank you?"

Professor Cameron laughed and patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, it gets a little bit of getting used to, all the secrecy, but we'll make it work. I trust you haven't told anyone yet?"

"Not a soul. I set up a PO box once I moved in with my fiancé, Henry. My primary contact, Joe, suggested it."

"Tall, lanky, greying, funny bowties?" Professor Cameron asked.

"Yeah, exactly."

"He's a good guy, we went to college together. I have to say, Joe is one of his less than original fake names. Especially in light of his real one," she said, chuckling. Elizabeth relaxed visibly. With another person that knew about her situation, another confidante, she felt infinitely better about the whole process.

She and Professor Cameron talked for a little while longer, before Elizabeth had to get back to Henry and Will. The three of them went out to lunch that day to celebrate Elizabeth's graduation, and they saw Will to his cab later — his allotted break really had been very short.

…

That night, Elizabeth and Henry found themselves on their couch, sipping wine, talking about the past few years and what they were planning on doing over the summer. Elizabeth had to keep the CIA recruitment schedule in the back of her mind to ensure she was available and didn't raise suspicion.

Other than the obvious trips up to Pittsburgh and the farm, they were at a loss for ideas. They decided to postpone the planning for the time being, finding the wine and prospect of having something to celebrate far more enticing.

Soon, Elizabeth and Henry were engaged in a full-fledged make out session on the couch, tangled together, pressing and pulling, losing themselves in the moment. Henry's hands began creeping up Elizabeth's legs and under her dress, and they were both prepared to move to the bedroom when the phone rang and ripped them out of their perfect little moment.

Elizabeth groaned and swung her leg over Henry, walking toward the telephone with a huff. Henry chuckled, but he was equally disappointed they'd been interrupted.

When she picked up the phone, a deep voice was heard. "Call for Henry McCord, 3rd MAW out of Miramar."

"Uhh, one moment," Elizabeth said, her face turning ashen. "Henry, it's for you."

By the look on her face, Henry knew something was up. He moved to the phone quickly and immediately stood up straight once he heard who was speaking on the other end. It was the Marines, he was being deployed in two days. He'd fly to Miramar to meet with the 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing and deploy to Iraq. For six months, until November if it went according to plan.

Which meant he had to leave Elizabeth in Virginia over the summer, to start her Masters alone, and to worry about him for six whole months. His heart dropped to his stomach and he swallowed thickly. As he hung up the phone with a "Sir, yes, sir," he turned over to Elizabeth.

Their gazes met and they both immediately knew what was happening. They moved toward one another, as if in unison, and Elizabeth buried her face in the crook of Henry's neck.

"When?" she whispered.

"Monday. Miramar, then Iraq. Six months."

"That's in two days." It was Saturday, and the rest of the weekend was supposed to be filled with celebration, not planning for his deployment.

"I love you, Elizabeth Adams. And I'm so sorry this is happening so soon."

Elizabeth pulled back and took a deep breath. "Don't you ever be sorry for signing up for something you believe in. I love you so much, baby. Just come home okay, promise?"

"I promise. I will always show up for you, always."

* * *

 _A/N: Did I mention I had two arcs planned for this story? This is the second one. And as I said with my CIA research, I'm doing my best to work with the information the showrunners have given, as well as actual timelines. Bear with me. Reviews make me smile._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: It's deployment day. Please give college-age Henry and Elizabeth a big hug for me. Enjoy, and reviews make me happy inside._

* * *

Saturday night and Sunday were excruciating. Henry and Elizabeth felt as though time was flying and their last precious minutes together were slipping away — yet at the same time, it was all moving in slow-motion. They went through their routine as best as they could, called Henry's family, and packed and prepared him for his deployment, all the while trying their best to avoid the elephant in the room — actually talking about the next six months. It seemed easier that way; ignoring what was happening in hopes that they'd wake up to everything having been a bad dream.

At last, on Sunday night, after Henry cooked Elizabeth her favourite dinner, and they split a bottle of wine, they talked. Sitting on the couch together, wrapped up in one another, they finally voiced all the fears that had been plaguing them for the twenty-four hours since the phone call. They felt better after, having it all out in the open, but it made the night feel more final too, like they'd actually come to acknowledge that the next six months were indeed happening. The only solace they found that night was a restless slumber in each other's arms, warm and safe and immune to the rest of the world until the alarm went off.

At six in the morning, they were ripped from their cocoon, and it was all becoming so frighteningly real. Henry's cab was coming to pick him up at 7:00, after which he'd fly out to Miramar. After a week of training, he'd deploy to Iraq. The Marines had already made it clear that information about his missions and whereabouts would be fairly classified, and they'd limit his phone calls home. So Henry and Elizabeth vowed to send each other as many letters as they could.

Breakfast was silent; they both feared speaking would somehow, irrationally, make time pass faster, make the cab show up as soon as either of them uttered a single syllable. So they packed the remainder of Henry's bag in silence, as he donned his uniform. Seeing him in it made Elizabeth choke up all over again, it added a whole other level of reality to the morning.

She walked over to him, smoothing down his lapels, and then looked up with glassy eyes. Henry pulled her close, letting her bury her nose in the crook of his neck, as he sought to memorize the smell of her hair, her shampoo and perfume mingling in some way he could only ever attribute to her. They'd re-learned every inch of each other's bodies the night before, pressing and pulling insistently, making sure the touch and sight of the other was seared into memory.

It was 6:50. They headed down the flights of stairs, hands linked, fingers entwined, needing to be connected. As they stood outside the apartment building, Elizabeth turned to Henry.

"I, um, I don't know how to say this. But — I love you, so don't die on me, okay? Just come back home, Henry."

"I love you too, Elizabeth Adams, more than you'll ever know. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can." He pulled her in for a kiss then, threading his hands through her golden locks, needing all the contact he could get. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed herself as close as possible; he took her breath away with the intensity of his kisses.

They pulled apart for air — reluctantly, and he smiled at her. "Many more of those to come when I'm back."

She chuckled wryly and cleared her throat — now was not the time for tears. "Henry McCord, aren't you worried there'll be no apartment left to kiss me in when you're back? I mean, I'm not exactly a top chef," she teased. It was better than dissolving in a puddle of her feelings.

"There's a _Cooking for Beginners_ cookbook on the counter. I found it a few weeks ago and bought it just in case." He winked and poked her in the side.

"You did not!" she exclaimed, truly laughing this time.

"Did too."

The cab pulled up then, and Henry's face became serious. "I know this sounds cliché, babe, but the moon up there? Same one as in Iraq. So if you see it — know I've been looking at it too, thinking of you. I love you."

"I love you," she said, pushing herself up on her tiptoes to give him one last kiss. "Have a safe flight, and I'll see you in November."

He slipped into the cab and she watched it drive off into the distance. It was carrying Lieutenant Henry Patrick McCord: pilot, religious scholar, avid quoter, guitar player and most importantly, fiancé to Elizabeth Adams. And it was taking him away from her for six long months.

…

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur. Elizabeth cleaned up the apartment, made herself a sandwich for dinner (she wasn't about to go take chances on the first night) and flipped listlessly through the cookbook Henry had left her. Maybe she could learn some recipes, she thought, and surprise him with an edible meal when he came back. It would give her something to focus on.

Elizabeth knew she'd go back to the farm over the summer, and continue her interviews with the agency, but other than that, she was left with more free time than she knew what to do with. She decided she might as well get a head start on her degree (possible CIA work was sure to suck up time once the semester started) and she wanted to be around people — being alone in the apartment was sure to drive her nuts before long.

That night though, she did want to be alone. She told herself she wouldn't let her feelings dictate her life for the next six months, but she made an exception for this first night. She headed into the bedroom and got out a pair of her pyjama bottoms to wear, and then moved to Henry's dresser to grab her favourite sweatshirt of his. She pulled it out of the drawer and breathed in his scent, trying to imagine she was pressed up against him, not the fabric.

An envelope fell to the floor with a thud (it had been folded inside the sweater) and Elizabeth bent down to pick it up, confused. She opened the envelope to find a cassette tape and a note. She pulled on the sweatshirt quickly before sitting down on the bed to read the letter.

 _Dear Elizabeth,_

 _You're out grocery shopping as I write this, hence why it's so short. When I got the phone call last night, I almost couldn't believe it. I had no time to write you all the letters I wanted, to say all the things I wanted, to prepare us for this. So I knew I had to do something, because you're everything to me and I almost can't bear leaving you for six whole months._

 _"All, everything that I understand, I only understand because I love." — Leo Tolstoy_

 _It's true, my world only makes sense with and because of you. I love you to the moon baby, and this is for you._

 _Play the cassette whenever you need to hear my voice._

 _Love, Henry_

Elizabeth padded over to the radio in the living room, tears already pooling in the corners of her eyes. She put the cassette in the slot and pressed play. She heard Henry's voice moments later, and her breath hitched in her throat.

"Is this even recording? Uh, hey babe, it's me. I tried to use this stupid dictation machine for my last dissertation, though it never really helped. But I'll give it a shot for this. Before I start, I just want to say, again, for the millionth time, that I love you with all my heart. So this is for you, because you're the only person in the world I play guitar for."

Henry started strumming and singing then, with that buttery voice she loved so much, always tinged with that little bit of raspiness that revealed the old soul Henry truly was.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better

Hey Jude, don't be afraid

You were made to go out and get her

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain

Don't carry the world upon your shoulders

For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder

Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah

Hey Jude, don't let me down

You have found her, now go and get her

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better

So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin

You're waiting for someone to perform with

And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do

The movement you need is on your shoulder

Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah

Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her under your skin

Then you'll begin to make it better."

He finished out the song and cleared his throat. "Am I the sentimental one yet?" He chuckled before continuing, "I'm gonna go now, I think you're coming up the staircase actually. Love you baby, bye." She heard the tape click then, and Henry's voice was gone.

Elizabeth curled back on the couch, overcome with sadness, and the feeling that being alone right now had probably not been her best choice. She missed Henry terribly — already — and she clutched at a pillow to try to feel some sort of comfort. That familiar ache had set in too, the inexplicable tug on her heart whenever Henry was gone. It felt like a piece of her was missing. One thing was sure — that cassette, along with Henry's sweatshirt, would become two of her most prized possessions over the next few months.

She laid down in their bed that night, clutching at the sweatshirt so desperately it was almost funny, because no matter how hard she tried, it would never be able to replace Henry. She'd written him a letter before bed, one of countless more to come, and it now sat on her nightstand next to a photo of the both of them from a few months prior. Soon, after tossing and turning, she fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

…

Elizabeth had her next meeting at Langley on Wednesday. She drove up to the CIA headquarters and was greeted by Joe again, who explained the background checks would start soon, which meant Will and Henry would have to get interviewed. Without actually knowing what they were being interviewed for. Joe guaranteed her they'd done this a thousand times, and no one would be the wiser.

Throughout the interview, Joe could tell Elizabeth was more anxious than usual, fidgety somehow, like something was bothering her. He was genuinely concerned, so he raised the question. "Bess, are you all right?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," she deflected, hoping he hadn't caught on to the nervous way in which she twisted her engagement ring on her finger. But then again, Joe was a CIA analyst, so he'd probably been on to her all along. She cleared her throat. "Henry deployed on Monday. He's at Miramar now and leaves for Iraq in a week."

"How long?" Joe understood how she was feeling; when he'd been deployed to Vietnam he'd been told the not knowing was normally the worst, the constant dread that something had happened no one knew about. And that was years before the type of technology they had available to them now — especially at Langley.

"Six months. 3rd MAW out of Miramar."

"Lieutenant Henry McCord, flies hornets?" Joe made quick notes on a pad of paper.

"Yes."

"Bess, I'll keep my eye out for him. Make sure the agency alerts me if there's any information."

"Thank you." Elizabeth was stunned that Joe was willing to do something like this, before she'd even been accepted for the position.

"Bess, it's really not a problem. I was in Vietnam, I understand how hard this is — on both sides. And besides, if this process does work out, I really would like to meet Henry someday."

Elizabeth smiled, glad for the fact that she seemed to be developing some sort of a friendship, or mentorship at the very least, with Joe. "Of course," she said, "I'd be happy to introduce you."

"I also heard Professor Cameron has read you in?"

"Yes, she spoke to me at graduation, actually."

"Good. She's an old friend and can make sure the next few months go by as smoothly as possible. And I'll say it again, but I'm very happy with how this is progressing, Bess. I still think you'd make an excellent analyst."

Elizabeth left the interview with a little bit of relief (at the prospect of Joe keeping an eye on Henry) and a little more hope for the next six months — maybe a new job possibility, degree and some new friends would do their part to help mask the ache she constantly felt in her heart.

* * *

 _A/N: And he's off! As am I, actually, until the 25th (Europe with spotty Internet) which means probably no updates till I'm back. I hope you liked this, once again, reviews keep me motivated!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I'm back? So sorry that it's taken ages, but going on holiday + writer's block is not the best combination. Anyway, this chapter comes to you in four parts. UVA, the apartment, the desert and Langley. I hope you like it — reviews make me happy inside._

* * *

Elizabeth had fallen into a kind of necessary routine by the middle of the summer. Necessary to preserve her own sanity at this point. She found the more structure she had before the school year started again the better — it gave her brain less time to focus on missing Henry.

She'd begun to work with Professor Cameron, making sure she was ahead on the coursework required for her Masters, in order to allow for possible time devoted to CIA work in the fall. In addition, she helped Professor Cameron with her research, scouring the library for resources and helping with organization. If time allowed, she'd been told, she would be able to be a TA for a course once the semester started up.

Professor Cameron and Elizabeth had developed a close relationship and mentorship, least of all because she was the only person outside the agency that knew about Elizabeth's recruitment and was therefore the only person who understood, to a degree at least. Though Elizabeth couldn't tell her about all the interviews and the secrecy, she could tell her how she was feeling.

Every week, they'd meet in her office to discuss the progress of their work and Elizabeth's recruitment.

Professor Cameron's office had a cozy feel to it, with overflowing bookshelves, old furniture and tapestries she'd brought back from her many travels throughout the Middle East. She served her tea in traditional Turkish glasses, and always had an extra throw blanket in a corner in case someone got chilly. She was sweet and eclectic, open to new ideas and extremely comfortable in her own skin. Marge was one of those people who you just _had_ to like, whose smile brightened up a room, and whose eyes crinkled with mirth every time she laughed.

It was at one of Elizabeth and Prof. Cameron's meetings for updates that they really got to talking. Elizabeth hadn't really spoken much about her personal life since the deployment and most of her friends were home over the summer or working already. She was still reserved about opening up to others, which had resulted in her bottling up most of the feelings she'd been harbouring since Henry left in June. Now, halfway through August, Elizabeth conceded that _actually talking_ may not be such a bad idea.

"So Henry's studying theology?" Professor Cameron asked, sipping her tea. She was genuinely interested and also a little bit concerned that Elizabeth seemed to be fairly alone in Virginia whilst her fiancé was deployed. Marge knew a little bit about her student but sensed there were things she wasn't privy to. It wasn't in her nature to pry, but everyone needed to be reminded they had an open ear somewhere.

"Uh, yeah, he's working on his second Masters. He said, 'you can never be too prepared for a PhD,'" she replied, chuckling. She remembered the disbelief she'd voiced as Henry had tried to make it clear that there was still so much he had to learn before he could even contemplate starting a doctorate, especially in his field. Eventually, she'd understood but still liked to tease him that he'd probably end up in school for the rest of his life if someone didn't stop him.

Marge chuckled as well. "He has a fair point. Listen, Elizabeth, I don't want to intrude or step too far, but know you can speak to me if you need anything in the next few months. I saw friends and loved ones go through this — in Vietnam, and it never gets any easier."

"Thank you, professor."

Elizabeth smiled but Marge could tell she still harboured insecurities. Again, it was not her place to pry but she hoped the girl had at least someone to talk to, someone who could tell her that all the conflicting feelings that must be coursing through her mind were perfectly valid and nothing to be ashamed of. That wanting Henry back as soon as possible did not make her selfish, that it was instinctual and didn't devalue the commitment he made to the Marines and the country. That it was simply worry — and love.

"You know, when I was about your age, or a few years older, I dated a guy. He ended up being the last _guy_ I ever dated, but that's another story." She laughed and Elizabeth couldn't help but genuinely smile.

"He was very sweet and caring and it was all okay until he got called to the draft and told me he had to leave in a week and a half. He felt so bad for leaving me and going off to war that he got down on one knee right then and there and proposed. And it was my turn to feel awful because I knew deep down I could never marry him, that I could never do that to a man. So he ended up being the first person I actually came out to. But he surprised me — and I think himself — because he understood. He didn't hold it against me and I felt this huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. A week and a half later, he deployed to Vietnam and I drove him to the base. We hugged and I cried and I tried my best to keep it together for the course of his deployment. Because despite our relationship not working out, we still stayed friends — and we are friends to this day. When he finally came back I'd met a girl and we were going out and he would meet his wife soon thereafter."

Marge smiled at Elizabeth. "The point of my terribly long story is this: I understand what you're feeling right now. And I understand if you don't feel ready to talk about it. But if you are, know there are people here to listen and help you through this process. Me, and Joe — because he's the guy from the story, so he should understand better than anyone."

She took Elizabeth's hand and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. They were all going to support her through this, together.

…

Every week, on Saturday morning, Elizabeth and Henry were allotted a half hour to talk. So, at eleven on the dot, Elizabeth sat nervously by the phone and waited for Henry's call. It was easiest for the time difference, since Iraq was seven hours ahead of Charlottesville. The phone rang then, and she picked up, holding her breath until she heard the familiar grainy voice through the receiver.

"Hey babe," Henry said from the other end of the line.

"Hi," she breathed. She relished in this time, it was her favourite half hour of the week. "How are you doing? Anything you can tell me?"

"I'm fine. Well, it's hot, and dry." Henry chuckled, his work was fairly classified so he couldn't tell Elizabeth much. "But we started a makeshift soccer tournament and I'm doing pretty well. Even though the other guys are gonna categorically deny it."

"I'm rooting for you, Lieutenant." She smiled, picturing Henry in the desert, tan and playing soccer with his buddies. "Professor Cameron may be making progress on her research," she added. She knew how much Henry liked hearing about things happening at UVA, and how excited he was for his fiancée to be helping with research. "I think we've actually found something useable in the archives, you know that last-ditch manuscript I dug out last week?"

"Yeah, I remember." She could almost feel him smiling through the phone; he was thoroughly geeking out and she loved it. "I'm almost done with that little side theory by the way, I'll send it your way soon."

Henry had been geeking out to the point that she'd had to explain the research topic to him in detail during a call, and he'd promptly told her he had some sort of religious tie-in that might help them. So he'd begun to spend some of his limited free time writing out theories. He actually appreciated the work, it took his mind off of his duties and made sure he didn't forget too much of what he was studying as he was thousands of miles away from UVA.

He'd made Elizabeth promise not to tell Professor Cameron until it was completely done, polished and ready to be sent back to Virginia with one of his letters to Elizabeth. His buddies at the base teased him for his bookishness, and had nicknamed him "Professor." Henry laughed and took it all in stride, he knew they meant well. Besides, he would beat them in soccer as a surefire way of dispelling any rumours of total geekdom.

The rest of the conversation was light — they tried to save the heavy stuff for letters so as not to make the situation more sad than it already was. When they realized the half hour was coming to an end, Henry sighed.

"Babe, I gotta go."

"Is it time already?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so. Elizabeth, I love you to the moon, and I'll talk to you next week."

"I love you too, baby. Stay safe, okay?"

"I'll do my best. Scout's honour. Bye."

"Bye." The line clicked and Elizabeth flopped back onto the couch with a sigh. She relished in the half hours where she got to hear Henry's voice, they were the only comfort she found — the only time she was sure he was safe out there in the desert. Sure, Joe had promised to alert her should Henry's unit be in any danger, but the truth was she could never shake the worry unless she heard his voice.

…

Meanwhile, Henry had hung up the satellite phone and headed back to his barracks where he flopped back on his cot, exhausted after a long day. His bunkmate Ryan just laughed.

"Existential sigh?"

"Yeah, pretty much." As much as he loved his calls with Elizabeth, and wouldn't trade them for anything, he was always left with an ache once they ended. Like he'd come so close to functioning without her and then he heard her voice and he desperately needed to see her, touch her again. He couldn't lie — this deployment was fairly excruciating.

"Any reason?"

"Ahh, just trying to figure out how to keep my record goal streak alive."

"C'mon man. You miss her."

"Yeah, every minute."

"You know I tease you for it, but if I ever find a girl who'll love me as much as she loves you, and you love her…" Ryan trailed off and Henry just smiled.

"The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves."

"What?"

"It's Victor Hugo."

"You do quote a lot."

"You could say that again." He chuckled and sat up on the cot, running a hand through his hair. "It's this indescribable feeling that you are so connected to another person — like it's physically painful to be away from them. And then when you are together, you talk and connect but you can also just sit there in silence and just _be_ and it feels like the most natural thing."

"There's a reason we call you the poet."

Both men laughed and got up from the beds; sentimentality was never a good state to be in for too long on the base — it would eat you up inside. They headed out to play more soccer, anything to beat the heat before the sun set and the cold of the desert kicked in again. Anything to take their minds off of being stuck in the middle of a war, far away from their loved ones.

…

It was Monday and Elizabeth had another training session scheduled at Langley — some sort of module to test her analytical skills and judgement. Sat in the testing room, she completed the questionnaires and read through the sample documents. She was getting ready for the next portion of the exam when there was a knock at the door.

She looked up from her work to see Joe poking his head into the room. Her breath hitched in her throat — something was definitely wrong, she could feel it. He motioned for her to get up and come with him. Wordlessly, she stacked her papers and grabbed her bag. It had to be Henry. All of sudden, dozens of worst-case scenarios flooded her mind. She shut her eyes and willed herself to stop them, opening them again with newfound resolve.

They walked along a long grey corridor and Elizabeth was about to ask what was going on when Joe began to speak.

"I'm not trying to alarm you, but we've gotten news of an explosion close to Henry's base. We don't know if he was involved, it's still preliminary, but I wanted to tell you regardless. We'll see if there's anything new once we get to my office."

Elizabeth nodded, as if on autopilot. Her brain seemed to be processing information, but she couldn't generate a proper response. She was fumbling nervously with her engagement ring, trying to keep it together. As they approached an elevator, they came to a halt. Joe placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious. Please don't worry yourself sick until we know more."

She nodded again.

As the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Joe motioned for her to get in.

"Oh, and since you're going to see my office door in a minute, I think I should properly introduce myself. I'm Conrad Dalton."

* * *

 _A/N: Hehe, there you go. Joe = Conrad!_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Oh hey, it's me again. Not gonna lie, this was a struggle (that adi1201 and storiesseldomtold know way too much about — thanks you guys) but I hope it reads okay. Please leave reviews, I'm desperate for feedback._

* * *

As the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Joe motioned for her to get in.

"Oh, and since you're going to see my office door in a minute, I think I should properly introduce myself. I'm Conrad Dalton."

They arrived on the fifth floor and exited the elevator, and Elizabeth followed Joe — correction, Conrad — out and along yet another grey corridor. Most of the building seemed to be the same dull colour, she realized. The only things hanging on the walls were those cheesy motivational posters, and informational signs about recycling and good workplace habits. Very much like a typical office, and not at all as exciting as the movies made it out to be.

Conrad's office was at the end of the hall and he ushered her inside, pointing to a chair where she could sit. He offered to get them coffee, and before long, Elizabeth was alone in the room with her thoughts. She suddenly and inexplicably felt freezing cold, and she rubbed her arms in a futile attempt to stop goosebumps from forming on her skin. Nothing was helping — the fear that something had happened to Henry was just too overwhelming.

She didn't even allow her mind to play out the scenarios for if something _did_ go wrong, half because she couldn't stomach it, but more importantly, because at this point Elizabeth had no idea what her life looked like without Henry in it.

It was a terrifying realization to her — after years of closing herself off with an apparent determination to live a strictly independent life without emotional ties to pretty much anyone, for fear of losing them. But now, she'd broken her promise and let someone in so fully, so completely, that he'd become a part of her and she had no way out. Not that she wanted one, god no, being with Henry and having that connection grounded her, gave her resolve, allowed her to _feel_ again, to be vulnerable in the most safe and protected way.

So the thought of losing him was impossible. It just couldn't be true.

The time it took Conrad to come back with the coffee and the news that _there just wasn't any news at all_ seemed to stretch for ages. When Conrad did reappear, he immediately saw Elizabeth's fear and knew letting her sit there was not a good idea. She had to somehow get her mind off of what was happening, or she'd make herself sick with worry.

"Bess," he said, ripping her from her daze, "come with me."

Elizabeth followed him wordlessly, wondering where he could possibly be leading her. After walking down yet another set of grey corridors, they'd come to an open office space, with cubicle desks and monitors lining the walls. Conrad explained this was the "bullpen," more specifically, the bullpen focused on the Middle East, and where most entry-level analysts sat.

And, he reminded her with a wink, she _technically_ wasn't allowed in here yet.

Elizabeth looked around in awe; the reality of the CIA was finally sinking in. These people were sitting in a drab office, but they were handling crucial, potentially life-saving information and making sure it was interpreted in the right way. They had learned how to sift through piles and piles of documents, analyze data and find patterns — anomalies — that told them something was wrong. And it made Elizabeth more excited than she'd thought.

She could be a part of that, she could be actively working toward a safer and more educated planet, she could be preventing horrible things from happening halfway across the world. She could be making real contributions and aiding her country, she could be in public service, and she could be working for the greater good.

Just as she was scanning the bullpen and letting all of it sink in, a young woman came running up to Conrad. She looked about Elizabeth's age, maybe a year or two older, and judging by the flustered look on her face, she had found out something very important.

"Isabelle," Conrad said, "have you got anything?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied, trying to catch her breath, "everyone at the base is all right and accounted for, that's what the guy over at the Pentagon said. The only people they haven't contacted yet are a squadron of hornets. He says they're trying every few minutes. As for the nature of the attack, we're working on a theory. But it seems to be a routine Iraqi attack at the moment."

"Thank you, Isabelle."

"Of course."  
"Oh, and this is Bess Adams," Conrad added, gesturing to Elizabeth. "She's in the recruitment process right now, but her fiancé just happens to be stationed at the base, so I'm making sure she's in the loop."

"Nice to meet you, and I'm sure Conrad will have answers before long."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded, the young woman seemed very nice. Still, the information she had was cause for worry — Henry was in a squadron of hornets, and she could only hope he was safe at the base and not part of the group that was unreachable. It immediately put the lump back in Elizabeth's throat, and she swallowed thickly. Pull yourself together, she repeated over and over in her head. Pull yourself together _for him_.

Isabelle excused herself then, and Conrad showed Elizabeth back to his office so she could wait whilst he tried to figure out why the squadron was unreachable and whether or not Henry was a part of it.

…

Conrad burst into the room some time later with a huge grin on his face. "We got them!"

"What?" Elizabeth asked, wholly confused. She stood up and stepped toward him.

"It turns out it _was_ Henry's squad that no one could reach, but they were just trying to evade detection and stay safe before they started communications again. So they're all fine, they landed at the base five minutes ago."

Oh, thank god. Elizabeth felt like a huge, leaden weight was lifted off her shoulders, and she exhaled the breath she'd been holding. Henry was okay. It was all that mattered. She suddenly felt a little wobbly on her feet and caught herself on the desk, stabilizing before she looked up again and smiled.

Conrad had sensed her overwhelming relief and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Bess, you okay?"

She nodded. "Yes, I think so. Thank you."

"Of course. Deployment is hard, for everyone involved."

Elizabeth chuckled wryly. That was an understatement if there ever was one. Deployment was excruciating.

"The attack is about to hit the news cycle, so I'd get on home if I were you. Henry's going to want to call you. He'll be worried you'll only have seen the news."

She nodded, he had a point, and made her way back to Charlottesville to try and get in touch with Henry. He couldn't know she'd been updated on his status throughout the day — he couldn't know she'd been at Langley at all.

…

The drive seemed longer than usual that day, and Elizabeth entered the apartment just as the phone rang. She raced to the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Henry!" she gasped, not bothering to ask who was on the other end. It _had_ to be him.

Sure enough, that familiar voice was heard though the tinny line. "Hey babe. I don't know if it made the news, but there was a blast close to the base but I'm fine. I'm back and nobody got hurt, okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "I heard, and I'm so glad you're all right." Not a total lie.

"I am, I promise. I love you, Elizabeth."

At that, all the emotions she'd been suppressing for the past few hours started bubbling up and she tried her hardest to hold back the tears. Who was she kidding though, it was useless, no matter how hard she tried, the tears fell anyway. Somehow, in the middle of all the worrying and (paradoxically) trying to keep calm as she waited, she'd pushed all her visible emotions to the side. But now, everything was spilling out.

Henry immediately sensed something was wrong and his heart broke, because he had caused her this much worry and pain and he couldn't even hug her to try to make anything better. "Babe, listen to me. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out." Henry felt so helpless, listening to Elizabeth on the other end, and he was mentally kicking himself for being thousands of miles away.

With Henry's gentle coaxing, Elizabeth was finally able to stop crying and she wiped her tears away with her sleeve. "Sorry about that," she managed, chuckling wryly. "You didn't need that after all that happened."

"Baby, don't you ever say that," Henry said adamantly. "You don't have to pretend it's okay with me. This is hard, for both of us, and I need you to be open, to tell me if something's wrong. Because I love you, and I can't bear for you to bottle stuff up for my sake, okay?"

"Okay." She sniffled and smiled. "I love you, Lieutenant."

"Oorah!" Now she genuinely had to laugh, and Henry beamed.

…

Two days after the scare at the base, Elizabeth was at home in the apartment, reading a book and listening to some of Henry's CDs. She almost didn't hear the knock at the door, and wondered who on earth it could be.

After padding over in her sweatpants and Henry's Marines sweater, she opened the door, to reveal the last person she'd ever expected to see in the hall. June McCord was standing in her doorway, a smile on her face.

"Elizabeth, sweetheart! It's so good to see you." June had pulled her in for a hug before she could process what was happening, and she gave in, letting herself be wrapped in a pair of arms for the first time in months. It was oddly soothing. "Henry called me, he said you could use some company down here. And I haven't gotten the chance to see you in months!"

Of course Henry had called, Elizabeth thought, he was probably wracked with guilt after their latest phone call and her little breakdown. And he was right, company was sure to do her some good. June said she was in Charlottesville for a few days, and had found a hotel close to the apartment she would check in to. But, she added adamantly, she was there for Elizabeth whenever she needed.

Elizabeth quickly protested, insisting June stay at the apartment on the pull-out sofa she'd convinced Henry to buy to replace the ancient one that had stood there before. June agreed, she was happy Elizabeth was comfortable enough to have her stay in the apartment. Though the two of them had grown close over the past three years, June didn't want to impose on her; she knew how hard it was to let people in once you'd lost a parent.

They entered the apartment and stowed June's suitcase in a corner so they had space to catch up. Elizabeth was quick to make them some tea, and June took the time to survey the room. She hadn't been in it much, since it was too small to fit all the McCords when they came to visit from Pennsylvania. She smiled as she noted subtle touches Elizabeth most likely added when she moved in, distinctive to her personality, but very much in line with Henry's possessions. Proof yet again that they were meant to be together.

What made her smile the most was the little makeshift photo gallery above the sofa. It had pictures of her and Henry's father, his siblings, and a childhood picture of her son with his grandmother. But it also had pictures of Henry and Elizabeth together, arms wrapped around each other, looking just about as happy as two people could look together. Her favourite one of the bunch, she decided, was a candid polaroid that occupied a little spot of honour in the middle of the wall.

It was taken outside, in the winter, the snow thick on the ground and reflecting the sunlight. It was a perfect winter wonderland. Henry and Elizabeth were standing next to one another, his arm around the small of her back, her head leaning on his shoulder. Their cheeks were rosy from the cold, and they were bundled up in parkas, scarves, hats and gloves. They were looking off into the distance, as if in their own little world, completely peaceful and unaware of the photographer. She could tell why they loved it so much, and had hung it in the centre of the display.

The second photo June focused on was in the bottom left corner. It was the only picture on the wall of Elizabeth's family — it showed her and who she assumed to be her brother Will, along with her parents. June's heart ached as she looked at the photograph, the blissfully happy family that had no idea what would hit them in the next few years. She realized she'd never be able to meet Elizabeth's parents, never be able to tell them what an incredible, wonderful, kind daughter they'd raised, and how indescribably happy she made her son. So instead, she vowed to be there for Elizabeth, to ensure she had that maternal figure to lean on, someone to call when she was stressed or Henry was far away or she just needed a chat and cup of tea. Because June McCord knew how important a mother was after losing her own.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth had made her way back to the couch with two cups of tea, and she wordlessly observed June for a minute. She smiled as she realized she was looking at the wall of pictures, and took a moment to glance at them herself. June realized then that she was no longer alone and turned around, accepting the mug.

Sat down, they didn't quite know how to start the conversation. It was Elizabeth who broke the ice. "I know Henry called, and Monday was scary, but it has been manageable. I don't want him to worry about me. I want him to worry about staying safe and coming home."

"Sweetheart, I know. You're being incredibly strong right now, but sometimes, it's good to let go for a little and let yourself be vulnerable. This is hard, and nobody's going to deny that. You to know that you can talk to me whenever you need, and especially these next few days. I'm here for _you_ , all right?"

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes watery at the love and compassion June was showing. "Thank you. You know," she said, "my professor told me something similar a week ago."

"Well, your professor is a smart woman," June said with a wink. "I'd know, because great minds think alike." Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh out loud and June joined in.

They talked for what seemed like ages that day, and spent the next few days together. Elizabeth was so grateful for the company, and she was filled with a newfound energy and sense of optimism when June left again. The next few months weren't looking quite as bleak anymore.

…

Elizabeth was fairly impressed with herself when October rolled around and she'd transitioned into the new school year without a hitch. Her recruitment and Masters schedule was working out surprisingly well, and she was keeping herself busy enough with everything that the ache in her heart was still there, but suppressible.

Exactly one month before Henry was due back, in mid-October, Conrad summoned Elizabeth to his office. She knocked on the door expectantly.

"Come in!" his voice boomed. "Bess, there you are." He had a smile on his face, which Elizabeth took to be a good thing.

"You know when I told you utmost discretion was advisable during the recruitment process?"

She nodded, confused.

"Well, that rule is amendable, but I suggest you only brief your closest family and friends about your position as an analyst at the Central Intelligence Agency," he said with a wink. "Congratulations, and welcome to the Company, Bess."

"Thank you, sir." Elizabeth beamed — she'd done it!

"The official swearing in will be on Friday, but I figured you should hear it from me first."

"Thank you." It was all she could currently manage.

As she left Langley that day — the last time she'd do so with a visitor badge — she grinned. The next time she saw Henry, she'd get to tell him he wasn't just marrying a Master's student from Virginia, he was marrying a spy.

* * *

 _TBC…_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Thanks a million for the lovely feedback on the last chapter, it made me smile. As do the two fools I'm writing about — I love them so much. Enjoy — and please let me know what you think!_

* * *

In the last month of Henry's deployment, Elizabeth had begun to tick off the days on her calendar, counting down until the day in November when she'd be able to pick him up from the airport after six long months. And in that month, she accomplished a lot. She had started training and working with the CIA — making sure her schedule was flexible enough to accommodate the Master's she was also working on.

She'd been paired to work with Isabelle, the woman she'd first met during the scare at Henry's base, and Juliet, another recruit. They quickly became friends, meeting after work for drinks, increasingly also joined by George, a more senior operative who'd taken them all under his wing. George had left for an overseas op a week ago, and Elizabeth was fascinated to be learning about his side of CIA work, the one you normally only saw portrayed in movies and TV. He had incredible stories to share from his travels all around the world, and always tried to convince the "girls" he was the world's next David Copperfield. They just all played along and laughed — he could hide a whole covert op, but not a quarter.

Overall, her new job was exciting and something she was truly passionate about.

Not that she'd told anyone yet. Henry, obviously, was too far away, and Will, well he was in Botswana. Phone calls to him also didn't bode well for a nonchalant "Hey, I'm a spy!" reveal. So Elizabeth's non-secret was a secret still.

Her Masters was progressing nicely too, Professor Cameron proving a huge help in that endeavour. They still met for tea nearly every week, and Elizabeth could remember the pure joy on the professor's face when she presented her with Henry's neatly written theory, sent over all the way from Iraq. Pure joy and a great deal of laughter too, because it was just _so Henry_ — geeking out over something thousands of miles away. Unsurprisingly, his insight was actually helpful, and moved the research forward.

And so the boxes on the calendar were being ticked off, creeping closer to the day Henry was due home. In the last few days, she'd deep-cleaned the apartment (it was uncharacteristic, but felt necessary somehow) and tried fruitlessly to keep her nervous excitement at bay. He was scheduled to land in Miramar on Monday, debrief there for a day, and fly out to Virginia on Wednesday morning. And then he'd finally be home.

…

Elizabeth woke up Wednesday morning with butterflies in her stomach. She had had trouble sleeping all night, too excited that Henry was coming home that morning. And a little nervous too — she'd heard stories about soldiers coming home from war changed somehow, and she hoped Henry hadn't seen the worst of it. Her newfound knowledge of the topic (via her new job) didn't help the matter either.

Mostly though, she was over the moon knowing that in a few short hours, she'd be able to hold him again, to kiss him, to hear his smooth, buttery voice without the tinny distortion caused by the satellite phone. And, she grinned a little as she entertained the thought, he was bound to be _very_ tan and _very_ in shape.

Though "short hours" was proving to be the understatement of the century. They felt more like eons to Elizabeth, as she ate her breakfast and did some last minute straightening up, itching to get in the car and go to the airport and somehow fast forward to the part where she was in Henry's arms and nothing else mattered anymore.

Finally, it was time to drive to Dulles and wait for the plane to land. At this point, her stomach was completely in knots and she almost couldn't take the anticipation anymore. She quickly found the flight number on the arrivals board and made sure to find the baggage claim where she was supposed to wait. Because somehow, the past six months had all been about waiting.

Waiting for the dull ache of longing to leave her chest (which it never really did), waiting to see how long it took her to burn a full meal (a week, thankfully without major damage), waiting for the CIA decision, waiting for the new semester to begin, waiting for the love of her life to come back from the desert. Entirely too much waiting for one 23 year old person, she'd concluded. After all, she was now an expert in the field.

The hum of the baggage claim belt alerted her that the plane had indeed landed, and she scanned the arrivals hall, trying to spot that familiar brown head of hair. But the minutes ticked by without a sign of Henry, and Elizabeth was growing increasingly frustrated. And irrationally worried, that somehow he wouldn't show up and no one had bothered to inform her of the fact. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she zoned out the world for a little while.

It was only when she felt a tap on her shoulder from behind that she was catapulted back to reality, and she spun around to see who it was.

There he was, standing in front of her, just as handsome as the day they'd met, with the biggest grin she'd ever seen on his face. Henry was home.

She practically flung herself at him, and he enveloped her in his strong arms, never wanting to let go. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent he had yearned for over the past six months, wrapping his arms around her slim frame, her presence solid and real, no longer only a vision in his dreams. She tucked her chin in the crook of his neck, resting on taut muscle and the physical confirmation that he was _here_ , alive and breathing and in her arms.

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, embracing, hands occasionally brushing over each other's backs. Tears started to flow at some point, they didn't quite know when, but that was okay, it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was they were standing on the same two square feet of space for the first time in months.

Eventually, Henry pushed Elizabeth back a little, loosening their embrace, but never losing their hold entirely. He looked her over, her golden hair, puffy eyes and red cheeks and he swore she'd never looked more gorgeous. She inspected him as well — his face was a little more chiseled, he was definitely tan, but his misty eyes were still the same ones she fell in love with, the same ones that could stare deep into her soul.

Their eyes met, and they both broke out into goofy grins. She giggled at the sheer incredulity of it all, and he grinned even wider, if that was at all possible. He dipped down just close enough to ghost his lips over hers and not touch them, and the anticipation was driving her mad.

"Hi," he whispered, before closing the gap and pressing his lips to hers. She arched upward, pressing up on her tiptoes as their lips met. The contact was overwhelming, much like the first time they kissed and her brain went foggy as she failed to form coherent thoughts. Henry's arms settled on the small of her back as hers gripped the base of his neck and they pressed flush.

Eventually, a lack of oxygen forced them apart, and they stared at each other again with the same cheshire cat grins. It had still somehow not sunken in that _this was real._ Henry grasped Elizabeth's hand and intertwined their fingers. "Let's go home," he said.

She nodded and he picked up his bag, slinging it on his back before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading them out to the parking garage. They were both fairly silent on the way home — uncharacteristically so considering the fact they had six months' worth of news to share. But it felt right, like they were acclimating to one another again, using the time before they entered their shared space as a sort of "buffer zone".

When they entered the apartment, and Henry placed his bag on the floor and pulled off his boots and coat, he took a deep breath. The familiar scent of home filled his lungs and he was so happy he could burst. He knew deep down that there were things from the desert he hadn't properly worked through yet, that his journey back to the real world wasn't fully complete. But this was a first step, and it was a step shared with Elizabeth, which was all he needed at the moment.

Elizabeth herself was watching Henry, trying to read him, to sense how he was feeling. They'd both been rather quiet, and she hoped it was just because of the long flight and jet lag he was bound to be feeling. Not because of things that had scarred him, things he couldn't talk about with her. She hoped the war hadn't hurt him too much.

As if he sensed her nerves, Henry turned around, stretching his hand out to Elizabeth. She took it, and he led them over to the couch where they sat down, curled up together. He was the one to break the silence.

"I'm so glad to be home. I missed you, babe."

"I missed you too, Henry, more than you'll ever know."

Pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, he whispered "I love you."

"I love you too."

She started playing with the sleeve of his shirt, which hit perfectly on his toned bicep. "Mmm, I've gotta say, Lieutenant McCord," she said with a sly grin, "the uniform suits you well. As does the tan."

"Oh really?" he flirted back, seeing the spark in her eyes, "I'd have to return the compliment, Miss Adams, and say that flannel is the most beautiful red plaid and really brings out your eyes."

She giggled at his comment, and Henry joined in; her laugh was infectious and he loved it. Deciding to take it a step further, he started tickling her sides, and Elizabeth erupted into peals of laughter, gasping for breath. She quickly found retribution, tickling Henry's abdomen, and they ended up lying on the couch, panting, Henry perched above Elizabeth. He shot her a silly look and she feigned exasperation.

"Ass," she declared, sticking out her tongue playfully. "Now kiss me." She gripped the base of his neck and pulled him down for a deep, drugging kiss. His tongue quickly traced the seam of her lips and she happily granted him access, their tongues mingling, the sensations sending shivers down their spines. Before long, they were exploring, pressing and pulling, relearning every inch of each other. Henry picked up Elizabeth to carry her over to the bedroom and she squeaked in surprise, replaced with a coy grin as she sensed his intended target.

After, they laid in the tangle of sheets, breathless. It had been too long. Elizabeth's head was resting on Henry's chest and he ran his fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. She looked up at him with a smile, grateful and content.

"I think we've still got it," she said, chuckling.

"Hmm," Henry replied, nodding. "That was pretty incredible."

After a few moments of silence, Elizabeth realized she had to tell Henry the news she'd been avoiding for the past few hours. She had to read him in on the CIA. It wasn't fair to keep him in the dark any longer. But she was apprehensive, unsure of how he would take the secrecy. She knew him well enough to sense he would immediately play the last nine months back in his head — trying to find out what clues he'd missed, how she'd lied to him over and over. Though she understood the necessity of it, it still killed her that she had deceived her fiancé for the better part of a year.

She sat up on the bed and Henry shot her a confused look. Her serious face let him know something was bothering her, and for the life of him, he couldn't guess what.

"Babe, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

She pulled on a sweater and pyjama bottoms then, and gave Henry his t-shirt and boxers to wear. He slipped them on wordlessly, concern marking his features. When they were dressed, Elizabeth sat crosslegged on the bed facing Henry. It was now or never.

"Henry…" she trailed off, her voice soft.

"What is it?" He took her hands in his, hoping he could provide her some comfort, because this was uncharacteristic and honestly, she was beginning to scare him.

"I need to tell you something. And before you worry or jump to conclusions: I'm fine. Everyone is fine. Nothing bad happened."

"Okay?"

"I, uh, I don't know how to tell you this. Henry, I love you more than anyone in my entire life, and, um, I—" she trailed off as unexpected tears began to well in her eyes. This was proving harder than she could have imagined. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm telling you this as soon as I could, which, believe me, isn't nearly as soon as I'd like to have told you. I just hope you'll understand that, because I hate that I couldn't speak about this. And I feel so guilty for keeping it from you." Another deep breath, futile, as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

At this point, Henry was utterly confused. All he understood was that Elizabeth was crying, and it broke his heart. So he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, settling them by the headboard. The sobs increased once she was in his arms, because it was so safe there and yet she harboured such immense guilt. But it was no use, he was the only soothing thing she could think of, and she couldn't bring herself to push him away. And she thanked all the lucky stars that the comfort he was offering was unconditional, and wordless, without inquiry. Because she could only hope for such comfort once her secret was shared.

When Elizabeth had no more tears left to shed, she rubbed her eyes and sat back up. Henry, still silent, was letting her take the lead on this. He knew from experience that rushing her into anything would only close her off.

"I, uh, I started a job a month ago," she began. "And I'm still doing my Masters; Professor Cameron is helping me juggle both."

"Baby, congratulations! Why didn't you tell me?" Henry was genuinely happy for Elizabeth, that she'd found something to do whilst he was away, and wondered why on earth telling him this was so hard for her.

"It's not what you think, Henry. I started as an analyst with the CIA."

She shut her eyes as soon as the words left her lips, too scared to see Henry's reaction. When she opened them again, she was met with a dumbfounded expression.

"Like, the Central Intelligence Agency?" He was momentarily rendered speechless, and needed to hear it twice to believe it. His fiancée had just, for all intents and purposes, told him she was a spy.

"Yeah, them."

"You were recruited by the CIA?"

"Yeah."

"When did this happen? How?"

"In March, Professor Cameron recommended me to Conrad Dalton, who recruited me. He's my boss."

"In March?"

"I wasn't supposed to tell anyone during the process, to make it easier to deny if it fell through."

"So all those trips to DC…" Slowly, the gears in Henry's mind were shifting and it all made sense.

"Were offsite interviews, tests, or meetings at Langley."

"So you've been keeping this a secret for nine months?"

"Yes." Her face sunk and she looked away, ashamed. _This_ was what she was so afraid of. She was afraid Henry would think she kept the CIA a secret from him because she wanted to.

"Well, I guess the whole spying thing is gonna work out well for you, Elizabeth. You've had a lot of practice lying."

He got up from the bed and walked out of the room, leaving Elizabeth sitting there, helpless. This was her absolute worst case scenario, and she couldn't believe it was playing out. The tears returned as soon as he left the room, and she laid on the bed, sobbing.

Meanwhile, Henry had put on the pair of jeans and sweater he'd managed to grab on his way out, and left the apartment, stepping outside into the cold November air. He needed to get away from it all, to think, to make sense of what he'd just been told. He'd only been back in Virginia for a few hours, and already, it felt like everything was spinning out of control. Elizabeth had just explained to him she'd been recruited for the freaking CIA, and that he'd had no idea all along. Because somehow, she'd gotten so good at lying that she'd kept it from him.

Worst of all, he didn't know how to feel about it. Part of him was absolutely livid, but another part of him understood. She'd had no choice in the matter, and she'd made it clear just how bad she felt about it earlier. And he hadn't even considered that when he walked out on her with no explanation. He was mentally kicking himself for being such a jerk, for _leaving_ , for not seeing her obvious distress. He turned around immediately and headed back — he had to see her, talk to her, and apologize.

He opened the apartment door slowly, stepping inside gingerly and shedding his coat and boots. He entered the bedroom to a sight that broke his heart — Elizabeth curled up and sobbing. He sat down on the corner of the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles. He didn't want it to be this way, didn't want to be the reason for her tears.

At the contact, she looked up, wide-eyed. He was back. Part of her couldn't believe it, part of her had been convinced he'd be gone for good.

"Please don't hate me," she whispered, turning her head away at the admission.

Henry was floored — never had he expect her to think so low of him, but he quickly realized his actions probably put him in the same boat as most other people in Elizabeth's life, those that just left.

He scooped Elizabeth up in his arms, pulling her close and making sure she was looking him in the eyes when he said this. "Baby, I could _never_ hate you. I love you more than anything, and I acted like a jerk. I'm so sorry for walking out, I had to clear my head. And it wasn't fair to leave you. Please forgive me."

She nodded, relief flooding her, as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. He wasn't leaving her. He didn't hate her. She clung to him, needing a solid hold, an anchor of sorts. He just wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back to soothe her and make the tears stop.

When they did, she pulled away and looked at Henry again. "I'm sorry I kept this from you. I wish I could've read you in sooner."

"Hey, I understand. I couldn't tell you what I was doing in Iraq either."

"Thank you. I can try to answer questions though."

He nodded, this would require some explanations, because he was pretty sure spy movies weren't the best source of information on her new job.

"So what exactly are you doing for them?"

"I'm an analyst on the Middle East desk, working with two others while we're still training. Juliet got recruited with me, and Isabelle has been at the Company for year. Conrad is our boss, so he tasks us with reports and assignments. I can't tell you what, though. That's classified."

Henry laughed, of course it was. Of course _he_ had to be marrying the analyst. "And as an analyst, you won't be sent out to weird places, right?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. "No, I have a desk job. Don't worry. George is the only operative I really know. He's in his forties, and an adrenaline junkie if there ever was one. He got sent somewhere classified three weeks ago."

"I'm relieved, babe. Seriously." He pulled her close again, and she settled into his arms with a contented sigh.

"You remember the scare at your base?"

"Yeah."

"I was at Langley when it happened. Conrad told me, and he and Isabelle made sure to keep me up to date as it was happening. That's why I knew, even before it hit the news."

"I'm glad you were in the loop."

"Me too. They all want to meet you, by the way."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think I've told them too many stories and they have to see for themselves," she teased, and Henry burst out laughing.

"Well, I'll just have to prove them wrong, with my charm and grace."

"I love you," she said, laughing too.

"Love you more."


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm back — so sorry this story is taking ages (over a month — yikes!) to update! College is stressful (but so much fun). I hope you like this and please leave me reviews — I'm desperate for feedback!_

* * *

Henry woke up the next morning more relaxed than he had been in months. The sheer amount of sleep he'd been able to get had definitely helped, as had the exhaustion that set in due to his jet lag. And there was the not so minor fact that he was once again on US soil and no longer had to fear attacks on his sleeping quarters, save for the occasional mosquito or spider.

But most important, Henry thought, was the fact that he was tangled up with Elizabeth in their bed, wrapped around the love of his life.

She was still sleeping, and he smiled at the sight of her, her chest rising and falling evenly, her golden hair splayed out around her head. She was exquisite and he wondered how in the world he'd managed to go six months without her. After less than twenty-four hours back in Virginia, he already dreaded leaving her sight again — even going to work for half a day seemed excruciating. He knew it was completely irrational, but he couldn't help it. He was utterly transfixed by her, always.

Henry was lost in his thoughts, staring at Elizabeth, so he didn't notice she was waking up. She broke out into a wide smile and leaned over to brush her lips against his.

"You're really here," she whispered, pressing their lips together.

"I really am — good morning babe."

"Hmm, the best morning ever."

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, please." Her face lit up at his question, and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He was still impressed she'd managed to cook for herself for so long. "I missed your cooking. Six months of my own food was _interesting._ "

"Well, I happen to have missed it too. One order of blueberry pancakes, coming right up!" Henry unwrapped himself from Elizabeth and winked at her before getting up and making his way to the kitchen. She was left in bed, where she let out a contented sigh. Henry was home and their lives were back to normal.

Sort of.

Sort of — because the sheer exhaustion was what had allowed Henry to sleep through the last night, and he had no guarantees of how it'd look in the nights to come. He'd witnessed things in the desert, things he hadn't coped with, not yet. Things he wasn't yet willing to talk about. And he wished desperately that those things to had stayed thousands of miles away, so as not to affect him and especially not Elizabeth, who had nothing to do with any of it and shouldn't have to be impacted by his problems. He didn't want to burden her.

…

Elizabeth had told Henry her CIA friends wanted to meet him when he'd first gotten back. George was scheduled to be back from his op Friday night, putting everyone in a rather anticipatory and celebratory mood.

Elizabeth had gotten a few days off from Conrad, which she appreciated immensely, so all she had to attend to was work on her Masters, which wasn't too stressful at this point. Henry was only scheduled to start up again in a few weeks, which meant the two of them had a few days to just savor and be. It was heavenly.

On Friday, they got in the car and started their drive up to Langley. Elizabeth had been calm all day, not thinking about Henry finally meeting her colleagues, but as they neared the building, her nerves fluttered. She knew he had accepted her position, apologized profusely for walking out on her, and was genuinely happy for her.

But she was still irrationally scared that somehow, her new life at the agency would throw Henry off, that the very nature of her being an analyst would make him uncomfortable — because his ethics were so steadfast and she didn't know what challenges her job would hold.

Her anxiety was evident, apparently, because Henry reached a hand over and clasped hers, squeezing it reassuringly. She gave him a grateful look, swallowing the lump in her throat. They pulled up to the parking lot then, and walked up to the building. Elizabeth clung to Henry nervously as they waited in the lobby for Isabelle and Juliet. George and Conrad were supposed to meet them directly at the restaurant.

They had been waiting for a few minutes when the elevator dinged, and out walked none other than Conrad Dalton. He was chatting with a colleague and almost didn't notice Elizabeth and Henry until she headed down a hallway and he spotted them out of the corner of his eye. Smiling, he changed direction and walked toward them.

He noticed them standing together, hands clasped, talking about something. Her head was leaning on his shoulder and he smiled when she spoke, his eyes crinkling with mirth. It made Conrad happy to see them together, that they looked so obviously smitten, and he thanked the lucky stars once again that Henry had made it back from deployment in one piece.

"Bess," he said as he came up to them, "you're supposed to be taking some time off, and yet, this doesn't look like Charlottesville to me." He eyed Elizabeth with a mock sternness that quickly gave way to a smile.

"Hi Conrad," she said, smiling too. She knew he was genuinely happy for her and was just good-naturedly teasing her. "This is Henry." She gestured to her fiancé. "Henry, this is Conrad Dalton, my boss."

Conrad reached out his hand for Henry to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, son — after having followed your unit for half a year." He winked and Henry had to smile.

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

"I trust you got back all right?"

"Yes sir, thank you."

"Good. Take it easy for a little while if you can; I learned that the hard way."

"I'll try my best, sir."

The mood had turned serious, and Conrad knew he had to maneuver to a lighter subject. "So are you sure you're not sneaking back into work, Bess?"

Elizabeth laughed. "No, we're picking up Juliet and Isabelle."

"Ah, then all is well. I'll go finish up this meeting and see you at the restaurant soon!"

With that, he waved goodbye and made his way down a hallway. Elizabeth turned to Henry with a shy expression on her face. "So?" she asked.

"You weren't kidding with the bowties," he said, chuckling. "He seems very nice."

"I'm glad." She let out a little sigh of relief, and Henry pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Bess is new though," he mumbled into her hair.

"Yeah, it kinda stuck, and it's not bad. But don't call me that, okay?"

He chuckled; how he loved her. "I wouldn't dream of it, Elizabeth."

"Good."

Juliet and Isabelle walked out of the elevator just then, and spotted Elizabeth and Henry standing together in the corner, his arm wrapped around her middle, her head on his chest. They broke out into grins, turning to look at each other. This was just too perfect.

They practically sauntered over to the corner, stopping just short of Elizabeth and Henry.

"Well, aren't you two just too cute," Isabelle said in a singsongy voice.

Henry blushed furiously at this, and Elizabeth just groaned. "Really?"

"Yup," she said, smirking.

"Juliet, Isabelle, this is Henry. Henry, these people pretend to like me."

This received a series of sarcastic "uh huhs" from Juliet and Isabelle, and soon, everyone was laughing. Juliet was the first to regain her composure.

"Henry, it really is great to meet you."

"You too, Juliet."

"Same here," Isabelle chimed in. "Bess really has told us _mostly_ good things about you."

Now Henry feigned exasperation, looking over at Elizabeth. "Care to elaborate on that, babe?"

"Uhh… not really," she laughed and Henry just shook his head, a smile on his lips.

"Is everyone ready to go?" he asked, ready to move them all along.

They got in the car and made their way to the restaurant, laughing and chatting throughout. Elizabeth was incredibly happy that everyone was getting along, and that Henry was comfortable around Juliet and Isabelle.

The restaurant was a little hole in the wall in DC, a family owned Italian place with "the best bolognese in the world" according to Elizabeth. She and her colleagues had come her a few times before, to send George off on his mission and celebrate Isabelle's one-year anniversary with the company.

They found the reserved table in the back and waited for Conrad and George to join them. Conrad arrived first, he apologized for his meeting running long and greeted everyone again. A few minutes later, George walked in and the table erupted in a chorus of welcome backs and hugs. He'd been off on a mission for weeks, so classified that their team only had the occasional opportunity to check on his status.

They were all relieved he'd come back in one piece, hopefully with wacky stories to tell — he always managed to get himself in some odd situation everyone could laugh about.

When the commotion died down and they took their seats again, Elizabeth moved to introduce George to Henry. The two men shook hands with smiles, and something in the back of both of their minds started working. It was too soon to place, but there was some intuition there that the other looked a little too familiar.

"Henry, I hear you were stationed in Iraq as of a week ago?" George asked, trying to confirm his suspicions.

"Yes, third MAW out of Miramar."

"Hornets?"

"Yes, actually." He was surprised George knew, but maybe it was just because Elizabeth had told him beforehand.

"November 12th?" George left the date at that, not wanting to give anything away in case he was completely off base. Meanwhile, the rest of the table had their eyes fixed on the two of them, trying to figure out what exactly was going on between them.

"Yes."

"Good to see you again, Lieutenant." George smiled warmly and Henry returned the gesture. Now, everyone else was utterly confused.

"Wait, how do you know each other?" Elizabeth asked.

"There was a group from the CIA staying at our base for two days while they were headed toward their final destination," Henry explained. "We had bunks ready for them down the hall of where my squad lived, so we made sure they found what they needed on base."

"Seriously?" Isabelle piped up then, coincidences like this didn't just happen.

"Well, the company does station operatives at bases temporarily," Conrad explained, "but this is an impressive coincidence."

"Yeah, no kidding," Isabelle said, shaking her head incredulously.

The dinner was comfortable and fun, everyone got along really well with Henry and they laughed and joked until the bottles of wine were empty and the stars were twinkling out in the night sky.

The evening wound down and everyone said their goodbyes before stepping out into the cold November night, parting ways for the weekend. Henry and Elizabeth headed over to the car, holding hands as their breath made little clouds in the air.

They drove home in relative silence, letting the evening wash over them again. Elizabeth sincerely hoped Henry had genuinely gotten along with everyone and wasn't just being his polite self. And the fear that he couldn't accept her job, filled with secrets and ethical grey areas, was still very much there.

"So?" she asked when they got back to the apartment and took of their coats and boots. She was nervous again and fixated her gaze on the floor, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Well," Henry stepped closer to her, pushing her chin up with his finger so she had to look him in the eyes. "I'm very happy you didn't _just_ tell them embarrassing stories about me." His eyes crinkled with mirth and he dipped down to kiss her, slowly, carefully.

When the kiss broke he smiled down at her, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "They're great, Elizabeth. Really. I'm happy you had them there when I wasn't."

She breathed an audible sigh of relief and rested her forehead on Henry's. "Thank you."

"For what?"  
"For being you, and liking them, and for forgetting that you should be completely against this job because it's not ethical and you're the most ethical person I know. Please tell me it won't come between us, because I would always quit if…" She choked out a sob and Henry furrowed his brow.

"C'mere." He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing circles on her back. Elizabeth shed quiet tears, her face buried in the crook of his neck, everything suddenly overwhelming her as she melted against him. She pulled back after a few minutes and looked up, absentmindedly rubbing the part of his sweater she'd soaked with her thumb.

"Elizabeth, your job is your job and I know there will be grey areas and you'll have to make the best decisions in the moment and they might not always follow textbook ethics. I know that. But I also know that you'll always make the best decisions you know how and that's all we can really ask for from anyone. It's what I had to do in Iraq. I mean, how could bombing places from 40,000 feet _ever_ be considered ethical? So believe me when I say that this job could _never_ come between us because I love you and you love me and that's all that matters. The rest is just a day job, babe. You and me is what's really important. Okay?"

She nodded, wiping a tear off her cheek. "I love you too."

"And besides, babe, it's kinda sexy that you're an actual spy. Doing spy-stuff, handling classified information…" he trailed off and skimmed his hands under her sweater, brushing over the soft skin of her back.

"Uh huh?" She replied, knowing _exactly_ what game he was playing. Spy training had taught her how to read people, not that she hadn't been able to do that with Henry before. She pushed up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, her voice dipping purposefully low. "Tradecraft is an art, you know…"

"Really? Well, care to give a lesson?"

She burst out laughing and tugged on Henry's hand, leading them to the bedroom. "That was terrible, I'll have you know."

…

They were sleeping soundly, tangled together, their breaths even. Then, Henry heard it again. The screams, the gunfire, the flashes of light that came out of nowhere, brighter than anything he'd ever seen before. They were more vivid this time, he felt as though he was _there_ , not simply observing. He shot up into a sitting position, shaking and covered in sweat. His breathing was ragged, and he struggled to calm down.

Elizabeth stirred when Henry gasped for air, and she sat up in shock when she saw the terror in his eyes. Before, he'd always been able to calm himself down and not wake Elizabeth, but this nightmare proved more terrifying than the last. Elizabeth didn't know what to do, what to say, so she took Henry's hands in hers and tried to force him to look at her, to calm down.

"Baby, deep breaths, in and out, in and out. It's gonna be okay."


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey… I feel like the updates on this are anything but consistent, so sorry! This is also a bucketload of angst, sorry again. Thank you to Adi (the Queen of Angst) for her help. I know that technically Elizabeth is the older one, but that would kill my timeline, so we're doing business as usual. Please leave reviews, I'm fairly desperate._

* * *

Elizabeth didn't know what to do or what to say, so she took Henry's hands in hers and tried to force him to look at her, to calm down.

"Baby, deep breaths, in and out, in and out. It's gonna be okay."

 _His ears were ringing, the sounds of the gunfight and the screams were too much to process all at once, they blurred together into one big mess of noise that seemed to fill his head to the brim. He really couldn't take any more sensory input, but he had no choice. There were the narrow streets, dusty and worn down from cars and carts that crossed them every day. The crumbling houses, because bombings were part of the routine here, and so there was never time to rebuild, and hell, you could never be sure that your house wouldn't be shot at in the next twenty-four hours. The charred trees, some of the only things that grew in this god-forsaken desert, now reduced to stumps and fallen branches, good metaphors for how the situation was looking as a whole._

 _And more dust, as if it were invasive and had the sole objective of blanketing everything in a fine coat of powder — another gift the desert bestowed upon all its inhabitants. The dust covered the houses and streets and trees and makeshift soccer pitches local boys had set up. It covered the benches in the local school, the barrels where rainwater was stored, the benches in the town square. Every exposed centimetre was given the same treatment, including Henry's uniform, his plane, the Jeep he rode in…_

 _Now the dust floated through the air, obscuring what little sunlight they had left, leaving everyone gasping for breath. He tried covering his mouth with his hand to prevent himself from inhaling any of it, but recoiled immediately as he felt moisture on his skin. He pulled his hand back to find blood — not his — but who's it was he had absolutely no idea. He stumbled down the streets, trying his best to duck into doorways when he could and make it out alive, find his squadron, anything._

 _He began to realize the blood on his hand was also on his leg, and he focused on the ground before him. Dead bodies were piling up on the streets and he was fighting a very strong urge to vomit at the sight and smell of them. This was so vastly different from being in a cockpit, from looking at a screen, at green dots and sets of coordinates. These were dead people in the streets. They looked dead, pale, and ghostly, like corpses. Because they were actually corpses. He felt sick. He rounded a corner when—_

Henry clearly hadn't snapped out of whatever state he was in; he didn't register Elizabeth next to him, trying to focus his attention. It took a good ten minutes of careful coaxing before the terror left his face and his breathing slowed. Henry glanced over at Elizabeth, exhausted and still shaking. She looked him over, terrified because she'd never seen him in such a state, never seen him so helpless. He was white as a sheet, nearly as pale as the bodies he'd seen piled up on the streets, and he couldn't quite believe he was alive, or here with Elizabeth. He pressed a hand to her heart, needing to feel it beat. The effort it took him seemed herculean. He looked up at her questioningly, like a lost puppy, and she immediately understood.

"You're okay," she repeated, and he nodded timidly. "I'm okay. We're both okay." She opened her arms and pulled him into her embrace, shifting as he let himself slump against her, too weak to do anything else. She settled them against the headboard, letting Henry recover for a little while she tried to inventory her own feelings. She'd never seen him like this: unable to function. It scared the living hell out of her, but that was not her main concern at the moment. Her needs were going to have to take the backseat for a little bit, she had to be the strong one right now.

Henry seemed to have calmed down after a few minutes, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He ran his hands over his face and took a couple of deep, shaky breaths. Elizabeth could see the unshed tears prickling behind his eyelids, and she gave him a weak smile. Beyond the tears, she detected something else in him — shame. Shame for the mess he'd caused, for waking her and scaring her and burdening her with this _thing_ , this weight he'd been carrying. This thing he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge up until now. She saw that, because she knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

"Hey, look at me, Henry." He complied, eyeing her with regret and so many apologies that waited to spill out. "Don't be strong for me right now. I can handle it. It's okay to let go, it's okay to feel. Even Marines break sometimes."

She hugged him again, let _him_ pull _her_ close this time — she knew he needed that ounce of control, as his body began to shake and choked sobs escaped him. She ran her hands up and down his back, rubbing soothing circles as she wondered what the hell had happened to him over there. Henry was never shy of expressing emotion, but it was rare for him to fall apart like this, to expose himself fully and let everything out in the open all at once.

She held him like that for what seemed like forever, until he was out of tears to shed. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and let out a deep breath. He was so grateful for Elizabeth, for staying and being unwavering but he hated that he did this to her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

She sat up and looked him in the eyes. "Why? What are you sorry for?"

"For waking you up, for being a mess. You shouldn't have had to see that." He ran a hand over his face again, the exhaustion hitting him full force.

"Don't ever apologize for that, please. I'm here for you, and I can't bear for you to deal with this all alone. Henry, what happened?"

He sighed and rubbed his temples. He didn't want to tell her, burden her further. She didn't deserve this, any of it, not least of all because he hadn't processed anything himself.

"Babe, I can't, you shouldn't… you don't want to know, trust me."

"Henry, I want to help you. Please let me help you."

"I don't know how. Baby, I'm exhausted." It was true, he felt drained, like all the energy he ever had was gone and he was limp and powerless. Elizabeth could see it in his eyes, how he was struggling to keep them open.

"Close your eyes," she said, admitting that tonight they'd done all the talking they could. Henry complied and laid down, facing her. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, his lips. She wrapped herself around him, making sure he knew he was home with her and safe. "Now sleep, and we'll talk in the morning."

…

Elizabeth woke early in the morning, while Henry was still sleeping soundly. She was so glad he'd been able to sleep without any more nightmares, after last night. She didn't want to wake him, wanted to let him rest and recover, so she slipped out of bed quietly. She made a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch, mulling the past few hours over in her head. She had no idea what to do for Henry, how to help him, what he needed right now.

Elizabeth felt helpless, so she called the one person who she knew had been in similar situations, and could maybe help her to get Henry talking.

She held her breath as the line rang, and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. "Adams," a gruff voice said, clearly still half asleep. Oops.

"Will, it's Lizzie. Sorry to wake you up."

"No problem, I was napping. How are you? Did Henry get back okay?" Will and Elizabeth hadn't talked for a while, since he was still in Africa.

"I'm good, Henry's back. Will, I need your help."

She told Will what had happened with Henry, and thankfully, her brother understood. Some of his colleagues had gone through similar when they were stationed in war zones, and he told Elizabeth that Henry would open up when he was ready. All she could do now was wait and be there for him. Not the most concrete advice, but she was grateful still.

"Will, I have one more thing." He still didn't know about the CIA, and she figured it was high time she read her brother in.

"Yeah?'

"I got a job about a month ago."

"That's great Lizzie! I'm happy for you."

"It's at the CIA, Will. I'm an analyst. This is me reading you in."

"Wait, what?"

"I was recruited for the CIA, as an analyst. I figured this was as good a time as any to tell you. Sorry it's so out of the blue."

"My sister is a spy? My sister, Lizzie Adams, a spy?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, then I gotta say congratulations Lizzie."

"Thanks Will."

"Have you told Henry?"

"When he came back; he met my boss and colleagues at dinner last night."

"Good. Listen, I have a million questions, because you're a spy and that's insane, but I have to go. I'll catch you later. Love you.

"Love you too. Go save some lives."

She hung up the phone then, and sighed. She reached for her cup of coffee, taking a sip and realizing it had gotten cold. She got up to make a new cup and almost bumped into Henry on her way into the kitchen. He'd surprised her, she hadn't expected him to be up yet.

She awkwardly ducked out of his way and padded into the kitchen. He followed her with his gaze, scratching at the back of his neck, trying to find a way to alleviate the awkwardness of the whole situation. He walked into the kitchen too and leant on the counter.

"Have you eaten?"

"No," she replied, gazing up at him.

"Pancakes?"

"Yes, please." It gave them a task, something to do, something to fill the time and allow them to _not_ talk about what they needed to talk about — last night. Soon, they were sat around the kitchen table with stacks of pancakes, eating in relative silence.

Henry was the first to speak. "I'm sorry about last night." He took Elizabeth's hand in his and gave it a squeeze, looking up at her with an apologetic glance.

"Don't be, Henry. You were in a war, you get to be emotional about this. You have to process somehow."

He nodded at her, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Henry, do you want to talk about it?" She looked at him with nothing but love and concern, all she wanted was for his pain to go away.

He sighed again, moving to clear the plates. Elizabeth was confused, and a little angry he'd completely avoided her. She begrudgingly followed him and waited to place the plates in the dishwasher. Henry, however, had other ideas, and began hand-washing his plate.

So this was the game they were playing.

She joined him at the sink, bumping her hip against his, letting him know she got it. Usually she stress-cleaned, not him, but he'd taken up her tactic and she was fine with it. Whatever he needed to open up and talk.

They washed in silence for a little bit, until Henry spoke quietly. "There was one night where we heard explosions close to base. There were more explosions than usual — gunfire and shouting too. The patrols went out, to go check on what was happening. I'd just come back from flying, and was still in uniform and armed and they took me and a few other guy from my squad with them. We went into the town and god…" he paused, taking a deep breath. "It's one thing to be up at 40,000 feet dropping a bomb on a green target on a monitor, it's a whole other world down on the ground."

He swallowed thickly before continuing, watching Elizabeth closely as he told her why he was haunted every night. He spared the details, gave her a pared down version of events, but nonetheless, he saw Elizabeth's poker face crumble just a little, saw her hands grip the pan she was scrubbing tighter, saw her eyes widen. Yeah, that was the main reason he hadn't told her anything yet.

He finished out his story and dried off his hands, turning to lean with his back against the sink. He stared off into space before angling his head over to a still-silent Elizabeth. "I didn't want you to have to know that," he whispered. "It's bad enough that I was there, but you had nothing to do with it and don't need to worry. I honestly thought I had it all under control."

She dried her own hands and moved to stand in front of Henry, placing her palms on his chest. She looked him in the eyes and her gaze spoke volumes. She opened her mouth to speak but opted out of it, instead wrapping him in a tight hug and burying her head in the crook of his neck. He hugged her back and they pour all the emotion into it that they couldn't seem to convey in words.

When she pulled back, she whispered: "I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, pressed a kiss to her cheek. "No, I am."

"Henry Patrick McCord, if you apologize for this again I'm gonna—" she begun with exasperation in her tone. He silenced her with a kiss, a bruising, drugging one, winding his hands through her hair and slipping his tongue into her mouth. They come up for air, and he was pleased to see he'd taken her breath away.

"Okay," he nodded. "No more apologizing. I love you, so much."

"I love you too."

"What happens now?" He gazed at her forlornly, and she just took his hands in hers.

"We keep talking. And you wake me up in the middle of the night if you have to, and we talk. Or you find someone else to talk too, if you need it. But know that I can handle it. And that you don't have to be strong for me, you just have to be you."

"You're incredible." He dipped down again to peck her lips, smiling.

"I know." She winked up at him, eliciting a chuckle. It was going to be all right, she realized, and she smiled back.


	11. Chapter 11

_Hello from the other sideeee… aka I'm back and once again it's been freaking ages and I apologize. Thanks to msec-in-aeternum for ideas for this. Also, I feel like lately I'm writing a lot about sleep — is that a sign that I'm not getting enough of it? Oopsie. Anyway, as usual, please let me know what you think — reviews are my lifeblood._

* * *

Henry woke up to the first rays of sunlight spilling through the bedroom window, feeling better rested than he had in weeks. Finally talking to someone about his nightmares had helped immensely, and even though he knew they wouldn't be magically fixed through one conversation, knowing that someone else _knew_ was like having a weight lifted off his shoulders.

The reason for all this was lying next to him, sleeping soundly. Elizabeth. It was always her, he thought, smiling. She was so utterly connected to him and knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. It was like having an extension of himself, and he hoped (and deep down he knew) that she felt the same. Little else could bring him as much peace as that realization, and a look of contentment took up residence on his face.

Normally, when he and Elizabeth woke up, they were either tangled together (more often that scenario followed a heated night of _reconnecting_ , to put it diplomatically) or they eventually drifted to their respective sides of the bed throughout the course of the night. This was not for a lack of intimacy, but rather a product of four years together and relishing in a good, ache-free night's sleep. That didn't stop Henry from shifting closer to his fiancée once he woke up, intending to wrap himself around her and doze off again — it was early still, especially for a weekend.

However, as Henry inched closer to Elizabeth, he heard the unmistakeable sound of her snoring. He fought the urge to chuckle as she remained oblivious, and momentarily stopped, listening closely. He grinned, and tried to put an old trick to use. Henry pulled Elizabeth close, gingerly, so as not to wake her, and pressed a kiss to her hair, taking a lingering breath. He stayed motionless and observed her closely.

Sure enough, she went quiet after a few minutes, and he felt satisfied and just a little proud that he could still stop her from snoring.

…

When Henry and Elizabeth were first dating, and had begun to spend nights at his apartment, they always slept cuddled together, partially because of pre-sleeping activities that left them too exhausted to move and partially because of the novelty of their relationship, and how giddy it made them both feel to be in the same bed.

As the months went on, however, they began to find sleeping positions that worked for the both of them, and their natural sides of the bed. All a testament to the fact that they were developing their own routine, and getting increasingly comfortable with one another.

One thing Henry noticed as their relationship progressed and they slept on separate sides of the bed was that Elizabeth snored, and not lightly.

The first few times he heard it he wasn't sure if it was Elizabeth or a small plane flying overhead, or possibly a grizzly bear that had gotten lost and decided to come to Charlottesville. But upon further inspection, Henry McCord had come to the realization that his girlfriend — his petite, rather delicate girlfriend — snored. Loudly.

He almost laughed out loud that first time, but during the nights that followed, Henry began to wonder if he'd ever actually _sleep_ again. He didn't know how to broach the subject so he decided to just try and suck it up and sleep through it. Three nights in he knew that was no longer an option. He briefly considered sneaking out to the couch and crashing there until ten minutes before the alarm went off, and then slipping back in bed with Elizabeth and pretending like nothing happened.

He quickly nixed that idea too, and was left with a problem. How would he ever sleep? By night four, the snoring was incessant and he tossed and turned, growing more frustrated by the minute. He scooted closer to Elizabeth, wanting to pull her close so he could wake her carefully. But when he wrapped his arms around her and waited a second, her snoring stopped.

Henry held his breath, hoping she hadn't just stopped for a few seconds, but when she didn't start snoring after a solid minute, he grinned. Elizabeth snored when they slept apart. It filled him with a sense of pride, knowing his presence relaxed her that much.

Over the next few weeks, months, and eventually years, Henry came to a conclusion. When he and Elizabeth slept apart for too long, she began snoring, and his presence somehow made it stop. He'd tried to explain it to her a few times, but she always laughed and called him crazy.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe," she'd say. "Literally."

…

Now, Henry finally fell asleep again, wrapped around his fiancée, relishing in the fact that he could sleep in after six months of deployment.

Elizabeth, however, had other plans. She'd woken up a few minutes ago, and found herself tangled up in Henry. She smiled to herself, still not completely used to the fact that he was back and in Virginia and in their bed. She'd spent so long imagining what it would be like to be in his arms again that it she was still occasionally convinced it was too good to be true. She looked at Henry and couldn't help but grin at his utterly peaceful expression.

She knew she should let him sleep, he still needed it. At the same time, she was due back at work on Monday and he had time off and she planned to take advantage of all the time in between.

Elizabeth snuggled closer to Henry and tilted her chin up, slowly brushing her lips over his. She felt him react to the kiss subconsciously, and smiled. She kissed him again, longer this time, and was happy to see his eyelids flutter open at the contact.

"Mmm," he mumbled, kissing her back. "Mornin'."

"Good morning to you too."

She cupped his cheek with her hand and kissed him more deeply, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth to giver her access, and shivered when her tongue brushed the roof of his mouth. He groaned and rolled them so he was perched over her, grinning.

"Is there a reason you woke me up at 8:30 on a Saturday?"

"Mmm… maybe…" she replied, biting her lower lip. He rolled his hips and she was the one to groan at the contact.

"Well, seeing as we're both up now, why don't we spend our time wisely?" He dipped down to kiss her again and they quickly lost themselves in one another.

After, as they laid together in a tangle of limbs and sheets, dozing off again, Henry remembered the small hours of the morning.

"Babe, you really missed me when I was away," he said, chuckling.

"Yeah, of course." Elizabeth was confused, of course she had missed Henry.

"You started snoring again. You only do that when we sleep apart."

"Says you, mister," she snapped, feigning indignation. "I don't snore."

"Oh yes you do." Henry grinned, and started to tickle Elizabeth's sides.

"No, I don't!" They soon erupted into peals of laughter and a full-on tickle war, and by the end, both were still convinced they had the true understanding of Elizabeth's sleeping habits.

…

When Elizabeth had to go back to work the next week, the old worries came back. What if Henry couldn't deal with her work being classified, with her having to keep things from him? Would their relationship be able to survive all the secrets?

Ever since she met Henry, Elizabeth had slowly been taking down all the walls she put up when her parents passed away, those protective barriers that hid her true feelings from the outside world. She'd gotten to the point where Henry knew her better than she did herself sometimes, and though it had terrified her in the beginning, she was grateful to be so connected to someone, on every level.

So keeping secrets because of her job felt like a step back, like she was putting up walls again and shutting Henry out of a part of her life. Rationally, she knew that it was different, and not personal, and necessary, and that she could compartmentalize but still. It scared her.

The first few days were normal. No major activity was detected in the area she was assigned to cover, and she could confidently tell Henry she'd been looking at the desert all day. And he could tease her and jokingly ask if she'd spotted any camels yet, and it was okay. And her fear subsided slightly.

But then she spotted something, because if there was one thing Elizabeth was, it was damn good at her job. Suddenly, the bullpen erupted in a flurry of activity, senior analysts were summoned, Conrad gave her a pat on the back, they sent in operatives and somehow she'd found herself in the middle of it all. She went out with Isabelle and Juliet after work, for a few drinks, and they toasted to her first _real_ op, and she felt like she was on top of the world for a little while there. She'd actually done something, helped people, helped her country. It felt good, and she wanted to share it.

But then she came home and it hit her like a ton of bricks. She couldn't tell Henry about this. And this op had been one of the good ones. What would happen when something failed, when they lost people, or god forbid civilians, if she misinterpreted something? What would happen when work nearly broke her and she would just feel like curling up in Henry's arms and sobbing? What would happen when she was exposed to the truly awful things people were capable of doing to one another, and her fiancé's quotes wouldn't be able to help her, because he would never be able to know what happened in the first place? What would happen then?

Stepping inside their apartment, Elizabeth was quiet and solemn. Her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts and she was thinking through every possible scenario regarding her job. Somehow they all ended with Henry leaving her, because there was still that tiny part of her that was convinced that _everybody left her eventually_.

Henry looked up from his book and noticed Elizabeth's expression. Instantly, he knew something was up.

"Baby, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She pulled off her shoes and coat and headed to the bedroom to change out of her work clothes. Slipping on one of Henry's Marines sweatshirts, she inhaled deeply and tried to push her thoughts to the side and put on a brave face. Henry, however, knew she was bothered by something and had quietly followed her to the bedroom. He leant against the doorframe, watching as she took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around herself. He hated this — hated that she still retreated to that place sometimes where she felt the need to be resilient and deal with everything herself, without letting him in.

Being gone for the past six months probably hadn't helped either, he thought and sighed.

Elizabeth turned at the sound, and was met by Henry's concerned gaze.

"Baby, tell me what happened — please."

"It's nothing, really. Have you eaten dinner yet?" Elizabeth tried to brush past Henry and head to the kitchen but he stopped her with gentle hands on her shoulders.

"Elizabeth—"

"I can't, Henry." She walked down the hall with a fierce determination, and it took him a second to catch up with her. He caught her hand, entwining their fingers, turning her so she had to look at him.

It was his expression that finally broke her.

"I can't, Henry, because I — because it's classified, and you know, I was really proud of myself today. And I had this whole idea of coming home and telling you and you telling me you were proud of me too. And then I remembered that I can't." She looked at a spot on the floor, as if she were embarrassed about it all. Henry let her continue.

"How the hell are we supposed to do this, Henry? I can't tell you what I do every day, and it eats at me, and I _know_ that you said it's going to be okay, but then today happened and I almost forgot and ran to tell you. A good thing happened today, you know? What if I mess something up tomorrow and people get hurt and I have to hide that from you and—"

"Shh, stop." He placed a finger on her lips to quiet her. "First, know that I am _always_ proud of you, Elizabeth, because you're incredible and I know, I just know you're amazing at what you do. Second, I know you can't tell me things and that's okay. As long as your job is all you keep from me it's fine. I understand. And third, we're gonna do this, _together_ , because I love you and you love me, okay?"

She gave him a small nod and he continued. "I know this is hard right now, and it'll be hard every once in a while in the future too. Babe, I promise if something does go wrong at work I won't ask questions. I'll just be there, okay?"

She sniffled and wrapped her arms around him, practically melting into him as his arms encircled her and pulled him close.

"I love you," she whispered, "thank you."

"I'll still ask questions about the snoring though," Henry joked.

Elizabeth pulled back and stuck her tongue out. "Ass." She whacked him on the arm playfully, and Henry couldn't help but grin.

* * *

 _A/N: This was short and a total mess and slightly plot-less, sorry. More plot to come, I promise, I just had to get this out before, and get over the writer's block._


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